My mind became increasingly disengaged…


My mind became increasingly disengaged with preoccupation about my impending fate as he drawled on with affected sincerity about the merits of our friendship and his hollow promises of moral support during the trial. My reality: a justice system is only as good as the most flawed and imperfect people who participate in it; from the outset it seems, what we ideally apotheosize as a well-oiled machine capable of moral equity is often in reality just a scabrous, unpredictable, illogical phantom of civility.

Art: “I bevitori di assenzio”
Edvard Munch

The reality…


“The reality, Sebastian,” Dr. Ganguly started as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door, “Is that what you tend to consider learned speculation really just amounts to empty falderal in the minds of your detractors and supporters alike.” He gazed at Sebastian intently, squinted his eyes, perched his thick black frames further up the bridge of his long, bony nose before removing them abruptly. “You’ll have to take a different approach.”

Art: “Two Men at the Table”
Erich Heckel

Arbitrary and Tenuous…


The arbitrary and tenuous theoretical matrix within which Dr. Bledsoe proposes his radical interpretation of the continuum hypothesis could only be justified by a kind of disingenuous process of ratiocination that conveniently disregards even the most fundamental axiomatic models common to nearly every widely-accepted program in set theory to date.

Art: “The Scream”
Edvard Munch

It never really felt much like home again.


It never really felt much like home again.
The sun-kissed meadows of my youth
were now replaced by a tawdry and vulgar juxtaposition of
discount furniture stores, blaring neon 24-hour checks cashed signs,
and eldritch lofts hastily adorned with
skeuomorphic Victorian-era window panes
sometimes doubling as
psychic’s offices.

Where the ferns once blossomed now sits
a ghastly array of pastel-colored houses with no windows,
overgrown gardens with no flowers,
and sinuous dusty streets endlessly teeming with decrepit cafes
emanating sounds of droll laughter
from patrons with no bodies.
But I still had her.

Art: Justyna Kopania