Andrei Codrescu

[[1]] by mistake, one day, i unplugged grammar, the refrigerator of
language, and all the meats of prejudice began to rot

[[2]] grammar is plugged into the wall of our minds and if i concentrate
long enough i can still feel my mother’s deft fingers inserting the

[[3]] i can, for that matter, also remember trying to put my cock
through a noun and ending up fucked by a mysterious “it”

[[4]] there was a man who spoke in complete sentences and one day he
was run over by a train

[[5]] translation can make what comes “after” come “before” and
thanks to this i am capable of filling in endless forms with a smile

[[6]] i have a dim view of commas when i walk

[[7]] the cannibal group i belong to is presently engaged in wiping its
many mouths of dripping pieces of syntax with the long towel of
my mother’s skirt

Photo by Latrach Med Jamil on Unsplash