Concerning the works of Room 13: Osseous,

All artwork and words are original to
Hannah Carpenter Pitkin unless noted otherwise.


The Transformation Of The Death Circus

Last night I stood in some strange town. A death circus: my charge to transfer disjointed human portions - all of which painted as horrible clowns, open and bulging - from a deeply rusted pickup and into rows on the harassed sodded hillside. My hair would often become entangled with the hair of the dead; the affixed faces swinging from side to side, looking up at me with a distant echo of evil. Black underbellies of the eyes held home to ravenous maggots, the mouths gapped and without tongue nor teeth.

Upon the placement of the final blackened abdomen a figure appeared port side, imitating the tasteful movement of a swarm of ravens, swollen with the halo of blur. Its face held no recognition for me, nor did the stride. With ease and resoluteness it brought its wings overhead, towering above and shading the hillside and all those laid upon it and as it swiftly brought wings to side once more, the hillside bloomed with fresh flesh appropriately in conjunction and breathing and humming and not one silent. The moment before my eyes opened to dawn commenced the most magnificent chorus of songbirds, thousands. They buried the echos of evil and danced through my window into the earthly morn. A mountain by the Devil's hand now at hand of animate flock.


Heron's Don't Look Back

 The Smartest Heron by hannahcarpenterpitkin

Winter doesn't matter unless you see it fly away,
It all mattered, though. Gracefully it all settled in between.


Alice C,

Windows sweat in your sway and I dreamt last night that it bled over me in waves of grace and trepidation that only a brush on hide could frame. A bosom is only as wild as the seeds it plants and yours are true Black Eyed Susans. I'd walk away with pale flesh if only I didn't know the elated reality of distended bruises. It doesn't matter the key nor tempo as long as it's a violent reaction. This realm hasn't been bred for meekness. Not for the likes of some I've known, nor for some I will, nor for the child I once was. Welcome to your thrash and radiance; it suits this circumference. 


Middle Chapters

Chapter Kringle: A Memo To The Mad

Suckers thought we'd be easy to catch,
But trickster makes this world.
Suckers thought we'd be easy to catch,
If only they knew it like that.


Soft Couch, Crisp Mouse

Chrimbus 2011
Cyclops Shark Absorbs Talented Youth; Youth Dreams Of Sultry Women
Young Girl With Ball On Animal Hide Chair With Pet Primble And Dancing Man


whether she knew
I was watching
was irrelevant
wasn't it



The bones of the body. Man was not aware of his bones. Ah, yes, the bones. The skeleton. Most difficult.
Something concerning an imbalance, an unsympathetic coordination between soul, flesh, and skeleton.

- 'Skeleton'
   Ray Bradbury


Touch Of Evil: Cinematic Villainy


Skull and Magnifying Glass, Apartment Building

 better scan


Batman Disposition


the neighborhood