Sink Your Teeth In

Text Messages Between Dr. Mercury and Comrade Cockroach. These were transcribed off of the Comrade’s cell phone when he was captured in Miami. He later escaped. The cell phone dissolved into acid. But the record remains.


M: My last guest said my library lacked novels.

C: What happened to him? Death?

M: I am sinking my teeth into a good book.

C: Did you turn him into robot?

M: It was papery. Not at all delicious. I’m going to fix it.

C: With the novels, you are supposed to read. Not eat.


M: It’s better now that it screams.

C: You have a new guest?

M: No. The novel. I fixed it. It’s better now. Louder.

C: ?

M: I like my books when they fight back.

C: Is this the novel still?


M: I’ve given up on novels.

C: You are not one for fiction, perhaps.

M: I’ve moved on to novelists.

C: You have a new guest?

M: She’s delicious, Lenin.

C: Are you eating her?

M: Just sinking my teeth in.

C: I see.

M: She’s tastes like a distant autumn valley, like the voices of a thousand stories.

C: There is blood on my screen. Are you texting me blood?

M: It’s not mine.

C: Okay.

M: But yes. I am.