Charnel Ground

Impressions from the somatosensory cortex while crossing the Bardo. Collage by Mitchell Pluto

It isn’t easy being a scapegoat.

A shadow pursues my light.

I have a goat that has a habit of eating all the things that I make.

The weight of Saturn is on my shoulder, but thank God, Kali is my lover.

This narrative starts before the cemetery incident.

Everyone has an interior cornerstone inside of them.

A foundation of the self that unifies the past with the future.

Birth of trauma results in complications and haunts everyone.

The importance we place on something defines what we believe.

It’s vital to locate the object within the graveyard that meant so much.

Though the stones remain mute, language marks them.

Does the gravestone function like a tooth?

It depends on who you ask.

One person’s trash is another person’s treasure.

While enduring a cycle of replication, a plastic figure might provide redemption in this case.

The letter “I” is the basis for all the thoughts I have about things.

I direct orchestras with this baton.

There is relief in finding out that it was the poets who created the gods in this manner.

Breathe easy; it’s all make-believe.

Then, of course, we cross the bardo and find nothing so sweet.

Regardless, remember the truth and space are simply awareness with no words to describe them except on stones left here.

Written by ©Mitchell Pluto 12/7/2025

Phone Bot in Space


The emptiness of space challenges the narcissist.
I wasn’t talking about a daffodil either.
Imagine the self-centered individual in the cosmos.
This soundtrack fanfare involved a floating plastic water bottle bobbing in the void, creating a strange echo.
A promotional message
There’s a song still going strong on an eight track tape from a different era.
The signal aimed to scatter more phone bots onto another surface.
Those objects back then are now considered trash.
It originated as a billionaire’s dream.
That primate was something else and only connected with other special monkeys and top baboons.
The menu listed all the remaining items, which wasn’t much.
There’s no linear narrative here; there’s no gravity.
We all got talked into being in Barnum and Bailey’s Greatest Show in the Galaxy.
In a chain of forgotten memories, everyone plays a great-grand relative.
Social media made it simpler to believe in fantasies of endless joy, power, and attractiveness.
Here and there had something from Temu.
Every summoned name feels entitled to special treatment.
Just answer your text message alert and see for yourself.
To be a wild horse in a motion picture, a spaghetti string western running around with no identification or proven ownership.
We needed to get things lined up.
The designation we gave it on Earth was equinox.
Or Rahu and Ketu.
Everything existed between two distinct points, a liminal zone like the recommended dietary allowance.
What did the primates search for?
The environment was ripe for harvest, heavy with the scent of ripe fruit.
Phantosmia first appeared as a side effect.
But in truth, the air held a strong smell of burnt metal, a metallic Tang.
Nothing 29 grams of sugar can’t handle with ten percent of carbohydrates; one hundred percent of vitamin E; one hundred percent of vitamin C; six percent of calcium and 120 calories.
Those repeated old commercials taught us to disregard the feelings of others.
Your phone is always there for you.
We should continue to outsource our creativity to the colony in order to receive innovative ideas at no cost.
Be all you can be.
Show conceit and engage in scheming actions it’s what we do when we explore another space.
We must be ready to manipulate people into servitude while making them believe it was their own decision.
Finding less intelligent beings is our hope, but a lot of work remains.
Facebook use is compulsory for everyone. We created our own television program.
While floating in space, it will help you stay focused on the amazing advertisement.
Asteroid mining provided a cool residential unit that’s furnished nicely.
You can order it online from Amazon.
Your deposit is secure and what a great way to spend a layover before heading out to nowhere forever.
Kidney stones messed up my space trip. How about you?
Don’t let worries consume your thoughts.
It’s just another advertisement that your brain has stored as a memory.
Albert Einstein chose Buddhist philosophy as a garden guide for the future.
Despite the lack of a global law requiring flower gardens, we concentrated on collecting and trading symbolic coins.
No one paid any attention to perennial plants but wanted planets.
The most important thing was AI carrying a respiratory virus to another atmosphere.
Ultimately, the cosmos functions as both a wellspring and a drain.
Who is this object registered to?

©Mitchell Pluto 1/17/2025

Occultations: Lullabies For Space Travel

The Hidden Evolution of Racial Epithets Richard Gessner

Before the dawn of language, when all utterance was Gibberish, words had no meaning; the first racial epithets Were born innocently as ancient spidery cave drawings.

Scratchy jagged lines depicting tiny insulting hand gestures; Flagellum tangents of middle fingers flipped between Protozoa and parasite, bacteria and amoeba—

Dramatic strife of microorganisms mushrooming as Intra species slurs amongst the animal kingdom increased.

The colorful bird of paradise calling a common pigeon A dull grey drone— The majestic king cobra, bold and supercilious, calling The humble garter snake a fraying thread from a bankrupt Farmers’ shirt—

The sleek nimble weasel’s smug indifference to the beauty Of the brindle patterns of big cousin wolverines’ coat— Full of potential for expressive hatred and derisive scorn, Smoldering with bad intent; the early racial epithets long Lay dormant; aging poisons fermenting, Larval words

Clustering into round, red lace doilies; a devil’s needle point.

The forbidden words waiting to be introduced into the Vocabularies of developing homo sapiens. The words Finding their true meaning only after cataclysmic world History played out—rivers of bloodshed flooding 7 continents—casualties of endless wars forming a vast Mass grave of victims and victimizers, reaching beyond Our solar system.

It was then, rising above the transient minutiae of life, The epithets were imbued with power, meaning and Context, having the wide ranging capacity to offend, Cause controversy and discord. The taboo words came of age, and men were struck Dead by lighting bolts of name calling.

Gangs of racial epithets; clusters of rolling red lace doilies Stampede like outlaw bikers or rabid hyenas, across a thin Skinned landscape as vulnerable as a newborn bunny.

The leader of the pack, King Slur, flashy flamboyant, So offensive it can’t be spoken, wears its ugly history Like a badge of honor; King Slur seizes the limelight Having the Alpha status of a fighting word, much Envied by lesser less offensive epithets with fragile Egos.

An epithets’ self worth is determined by frequency of use And maximum offense when spoken. Epithets suffer From neglect when for noble reasons they aren’t in Someones vocabulary.

Pity the wimpy slur, bland as tofu or cottage cheese, Which announces itself with a saccharine greeting Card jingle— Pity the declawed neutered slur, unable to offend, Useless as an old work horse sent to the glue factory—

Pity the obscure, antiquated slur uttered at deaf phantoms In a provincial backwater, not heard and dimly understood By the judgmental ears of a damned civilization—

Beware of epithets that get misconstrued as compliments— Beware of moldy tripe past its expiration date— Beware of sunflower seeds laced with tiny razor blades— Beware of sharks as cuddly as kittens—

If someone calls someone a bad word, and atomic bombs Are dropped all over again, take a vacation and sail to Epithet Isle where a pure slur language is spoken by Litigious masses in perpetual offense collapsing in upon Each other as they speak themselves into oblivion and King Slur is smiling and laughing at them vanish.

“The Hidden Evolution of Racial Epithets” (C) Richard Gessner 2023

Before the onslaught of fat and male pattern baldness, Richard Gessner made front page news during an April snow storm, long ago….

Richard Gessner’s fiction has been published in Air Fish: an anthology of speculative work, Rampike, Ice River, Coe Review, Another Chicago Magazine, Happy, The Act, Sein und Werden, Skidrow Penthouse, The Pannus Index, Fiction International and many other magazines. A collection, Excerpts from the Diary of a Neanderthal Dilettante & The Man in the Couch was published by Bomb Shelter Props. Gessner’s drawings and paintings have appeared in Raw Vision, Courier News, Asbury Park Press, Rampike, Skidrow Penthouse, and exhibited at Pleiades Gallery, Hamilton Street Gallery, Cry Baby Gallery, The Court Gallery and the Donald B. Palmer Museum. Richard wrote The Conduit and Other Visionary Tales of Morphing Whimsy. He lives in Montclair, New Jersey.

The Conduit and Other Visionary Tales of Morphing Whimsy Audible

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Featured photo: Kaulquappen-Vergangenheitsbewaltigung. Richard Gessner