Skeleton Key

Obernewtynb ~ Donato Giancola

Morning dressed herself in black
Opened the door to the sun
With a key pressed in a bar of soap

Mourning dressed herself in amber
Closed the door on all before her
Bolted with catechism and holy water

The bars of my cage leave a shadow permanent
Across the bridge of my nose
My mouth describes a downward arc
To spark the star between my eyes

Morning rose in waves of amber
Cold against the doors of dawn
A key to impress a bar of soap

Mourning rose in waves of black
No key for tomorrow’s doors
Unquenched by catechism or holy water

1.4 Red/Yellow/Blue (Spoiler) Alert

Who's This Guy ~Frederico Erra

Atom let the red water run out and refilled the bath with decreasingly warm water.
“What do you think happened to me?” he shouted out to Cajones, “I can’t remember anything.”
“Nothing ‘happened’ to you,” Cajones’ face appeared in the doorway, “Other than the momentous event of your birth; just like seven-hundred-thousand-and-fuck-knows how many others before you.”
“My birth?” said Atom, “d’you mean re-birth, like allegorically?”
“I’m a cat; I don’t do allegory. I don’t even know how to spell allegory; in fact I don’t know how to spell anything since I am a cat…”
“So how did you manage to read the register downstairs? The Oriental Suit”
“That’s different”
“Okay, so just to recap:

1. I was born yesterday
2. (there is no number 2)

But shouldn’t I have some memories?” Atom looked down at his (now reasonably cleaned up) body, “I mean, I have an appendix scar (rather nasty one at that), I mean,” looking further down, “I’m not exactly a baby.”
“So you say,” said Cajones, “In fact, you do have memories, only not specific ones. Your lot are rather vague when it comes to specifics, more inclined to the general theory that if you throw enough bodies at it you’ll somehow get the job done quicker.”
“Well, won’t you?”
“Won’t I what?”
“Get the job done quicker?”
“What job?”
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” said Atom
“Wrong? Something’s wrong? Of course something’s wrong; besides everything else; right/wrong; me/you; up/down: you’re a construct just like I am and I’m getting sick of being the one to have to tell you all this, that’s what’s fucking wrong.”

And on the Seventh Day...

Scott McCloud

Paint by numbers?
I posted this 'cause I like the style but I'm not sure if I buy the concept of creativity with rules; it harks back (for me) to our obsession with lists and pigeon-holes; to defining the meaning out of things; to sheep-dogging our ideas into the box
~ Pisces

The Infinity Blues

Nick Cave: Meet Me At the Center of the Earth ~ (photo by James Prinz)

Ochre crumbs the opening lines
Brick dust moss-split spawn on the air
Find crevice purchase
Sub-divide
Real estate real estate
Revolution
Grown in increments of infinity
Poised
For the downfall
of the empire of man

1.3 Reflection in a Yellow Eye

Reverse graffiti by Vhils

Soon after hatching from the egg Atom chanced upon a large ginger tom. He was filled with an odd sensation of familiarity.
“Hello Kitty” he said.
“Don’t call me Kitty,” said the cat, “I’m bigger than you are and my name is Cajones.”
“Balls,” said Atom, “a talking cat”
“Balls indeed, just remember that all of this is an experiment conducted by a mad scientist,” said the cat, “so anything’s possible.”
“What is the mad scientist trying to prove with this experiment?” asked Atom
“Fucked if I know, I don’t even know what a mad scientist is,” said Cajones, “but I do know what your lot are like: always tampering(erm…experimenting) with things; always with your fingers in the gears; always blaming someone else for the fact that you keep losing fingers,” He turned and headed on down the pathway.
Atom contemplated the view afforded and shuddered.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I’m taking you to the others.”

The hotel’s revolving door was cool for cats but less than welcoming for (the naked and still clumsy) Atom who stubbed his bare toes and yelped.
“For a second there I thought you were going to Bangkok,” said Cajones, “…to quote an old cat joke.” He consulted the register: “Oh look, they’ve put you in the Oriental Suite.”
In an ungainly display of multitasking, Atom looked at the register (while hopping on one foot and massaging the other with grubby hands); logosyllabic script sashayed across the page unwilling communicate with the monosyllabic pain that throbbed in his toes.
“Hop this way sir, I’ll show you to your room”
Atom followed Cajones’ tail towards the threadbare stairs.

The room was basic (no complimentary mint or personalized welcome on the TV); the television (in fact) played a succession of graphic images of talking (bodiless) heads and (body dysfunctional) pornography which Atom found difficult to distinguish from one another. The giant mirror reflected a blood-smeared, naked individual (whom Atom took to be himself) and the ginger cat that took the entire mirror behind him.
“Fuck, I do need a bath” said Atom, finding the bathroom easily enough (there was only one other door beside the one that they’d entered through).
“Yes you do” Cajones remained before the mirror unwilling to decide whether he was just gazing at his own beauty or sending a message to the mad scientist.

“That cat is really starting to piss me off,” said the mad scientist as he scratched a succession of mad scientist type words in mad scientist typeface(bold) in his mad scientist notebook, “But I don’t think we can influence him with violence, He’s too fucking big to break that easily. We're going to have to change his diet”

Atom Echoes

Zach Weiner

This cartoon synchronises in an odd way with the emergence of "An Atom in Unwonderland".
What am I talking about? A common question with reference to my writing perhaps, but in this case it goes like this:
The post entitled "In the Blink of a Yellow Eye" was not meant to be more than another idle Far Queue post, but after Harlequin's comment "such a nicely perverse atom in non-wonderland" my mind went racing off and created installment 1.2, and later installment 1.3 (which will be posted on Friday).
Subsequent searches for a visual to accompany installment 1.3 caused me to stumble across a magnificent (and perfectly suited) photo by Jackie Morris (who kindly granted me permission to use it).
The resultant Index page (also a work in progress) can be seen (and used) here.

Now I'm sure this is not the recommended way to publish one's work but I am, after all, making this up on the go, and when it comes to doing things properly, my infliction is a dogged inability to care.
The bottom line is that I have no idea where this story is going, but hey, that's engineering for you.
~ Pisces

Say What?

			All intelligent thoughts have already been thought; what is necessary is only to try to think them again.
							Goethe

1.2 On the Brink of a Yellow Eye

Lynch ~ Robert Maxwell

It was not long after Atom had hatched that he came across the cat (it was a big fucker)
“New kid on the block?” it said, barely containing something acid on its tongue.
“I suppose I am,” said Atom, “how would I know?”
“’Cause I’m telling you” said the cat.
There is always some tension in these encounters: Cajones’ apparent ownership of the upper hand (or paw) is unremarkable in a world of cats; but before the queue of naked humans about to run the maze he was presented with a conflict between instinct and intellect. In addition, there was a modicum of resentment which had been added to the cauldron since Cajones' recent misadventure on the wrong end of the big stick.
“This is all an experiment.” he said, “The mad scientist is your god; you must wriggle on his hook.”
Atom looked up at Cajones,
“What the fuck are you on about?” he said
“I’ll take you to the others” said the cat, turning and heading down the hill.
Atom followed, whistling (what he presumed to be) a tune through his puckered lips.
"You lot and your music," said Cajones over his shoulder, "constantly cluttering the air with misrepresentative sound."
"Wot, cats don't like music?" asked Atom without irony (since he didn't have a clue what irony was).
"Oh we do like music," replied the cat, "Only, the music we like has greater meaning: the music of baby birds calling for their mummy; the sound of the moon on a fieldmouse's run"
Atom whistled some more, wondering how the cat had got so big.

The hotels revolving door accommodated Cajones entrance with grace beyond cool.
“Looks like they’ve put you in The Napoleon Suite” he said, peering at the register with one yellow eye, “I would offer to take your bags but I already have more than enough in that department - If you'd care to follow me sir”.
Atom expressed his bewilderment by casting (what he hoped was) a knowing eye over the register. He followed Cajones toward the threadbare staircase.

“Good luck little thing” said Cajones trailing his ginger tail out of the room.
Atom bounced on the bed noticing the pornographic images oozing from the television, unable to draw his eyes away to notice the large and worn mirror that cast judgement in the reverse image:
“Put this one in with the maybes” said the mad scientist to his assistant.

Dangerous Water

Fashion Self-Harm Accessory

We are electric
We are eclectic
Beyond the reach of cool
While the minutes drag
We walk through time
As if it were not a spiral
On the downward turn