Michael ThompsonPure MindGot to write fast because time is running out. Fueled by coffee and desperation, this is my last chance.Sep 1, 2019Sep 1, 2019
Michael ThompsoninAutomatic ProseYou Can(not) Get UpRingy-dingy-dong at the door. I am defeated. On my legs: a cat curled up. It’s too warm, but I won’t make her get up. I certainly won’t…Aug 29, 2019Aug 29, 2019
Michael ThompsoninAutomatic ProseEscape these ｄｒｕｇ-burning ｍｏｖｅｓ —Ｂｅｌｉｅｆ is drooping.Aug 29, 2019Aug 29, 2019
Michael ThompsoninAutomatic ProseApocalypseFor months I sat around my parents house, newly sober, with anxiety I could feel in my gut, having visions, visions of the vaporwave…Aug 9, 2019Aug 9, 2019
Michael ThompsonHow to Write About Writing: FictionThe room is still. Alone, at the dinner table, laptop opened slightly past ninety degrees, cup of coffee growing cold, I try to think of…Jul 22, 2019Jul 22, 2019
Michael ThompsonAbsolute RealityAbsolute reality vanishes away, and leaves beings who throng and press and nothing permanent but matter alone and upon one of those…Jul 12, 2019Jul 12, 2019
Michael ThompsoninLondon Literary ReviewIn Rats’ AlleyWhere the Dead Men Lost Their BonesJul 4, 2019Jul 4, 2019
