Concerning the works of Room 13: Osseous,

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


a Blue Moon only by name swoons from a treble throat

a strange rain
swooning from treble throats,
swooning from treble throats,

strange rain and a cricket in the hall,
stinging songs of lineage
crack in the plaster, leaking a strange swing
all swooning from swollen troughs

terrible round moons
a strange rain in August


a friend of a friend of a friend


when rust collects on the underside
who can give me an example
[hint hint]
more violence

Hugo, thank you.
it's in your lung.
the stage: 3A,
'catch me if you can'

how long,
how long.
she's not a goldmine goddamnit. fuck the hell off and get pissed. you're a sack of wide deep shit that smells like a dead animal who ate a dead pack of rats that had worms that had recently fucked death in the face. death's got bad breath. baddddd fucking breath, just like you, you ass whoring pimp son of a stupid cunt. pardon me, miss. pardon. but look at the coal. there's no soft metal inside. it's darkness, through and through.
sit him down.
get it all on the table.

family meeting.




Salty Leads


You Never Visit Anymore

I'd hear the neighbor taking a cold shower.
mostly lonesome.

He was meaty. Liked bikes and the galaxy.
His nephew would call every other week or so and I'd hear him tell tall tales.

On the other side was a big bitch.
Rap, rap, rap against the wall with what I presumed to be a broom or some horribly cliche witch-type-tool.

Beneath was the rotten ground where once Native Americans were slain and buried.
Not sacred I'm sure, but rotten with the meat of old humans.

Outside most mornings was a bald cat that I dubbed Leonard or Leona depending on my mood.

The place suited me just fine.
I imagine the landlord burned it for insurance purposes, and not for its lack of character.
Note. 12:19 AM. Monday August 6.

Fresh basil reminds me of my family. I made hamburgers tonight. And bruschetta. And baked potato slices. And grilled onions and mushrooms. And Jer made Brussels sprouts. And I made banana bread. And rum and cream sodas. And a fresh garden salad with help/fresh veggies from Pete. And we have untouched ice cream in the fridge. And red wine and beer. And paintings on the wall. And a magnificent cow skull on the table

Forget what you thought about who I am and remember the burgers and skull the most. They come from the same family. They feed and honor our house tonight. And for nights to come. Not greed, but an assorted Thanks.

Time to pretend to sleep.