the writing of sam hilsman
There is nothing
behind the curtain.
My mind seems to be some sort of twisted tenement. Rooms keep appearing while I sleep, and I have stopped asking who is building them.
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The Tenants
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Artificial Time Machine
A guided tour of the future, station by station. The smart house scans you at the door and sedates you when you seem tense. You paid top dollar for the privilege.
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Poetry
Free verse, lowercase and raw. The things that surface when the lights go down, written before they can crawl back in.
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Abstract
The strange ones, written sideways. Some stopped making sense to me halfway through. I left them like that.
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Short Stories
Ordinary people, usually in the midst of having the rug pulled from under them, or perhaps trying too hard to peer behind the veil.
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Wired World
It started by eating the rich. The longer, stranger story is what came after, and it arrives one novel at a time.
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Lately
The newest pieces, whatever floor they came from.
- On keeping the scaffolding up I never learned how to take it down.
- A theory of lamps One light in a cold room. It fixes nothing. I leave it on.
- The smart house It scanned my cholesterol before it let me in.
- Alignment Another meeting about the meetings. I watched myself agree.
- Departures A man in a good suit, trying not to feel the floor move.
ABOUT
Hi.
PlainTextPoetry is a mask. I am Sam, the person underneath who writes things down so they will stop following me around.
STILL HERE
Everything here is free. It stays that way.
If any of it kept you company, you can help keep the lights on a while longer.
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