I sent my ex to Plastic Man, and he is birthing figurines.

It seems like Iran is not Xi's kind of hang out. It isn't his style and the hooka isn't either.

When obtaining your own idiot make sure it can burp and hold a spoon.

Of course—let’s crank up the absurdity to eleven and kick the black background to the curb. Here’s a properly formatted, thoroughly ridiculous 12-line poem using your preferred structure of about 8–10 words per line: They met mid-blizzard on inflatable flamingos fueled by espresso, One spoke in Morse code, the other in interpretive sneeze. Their flags were just spaghetti, flapping wetly in the breeze, And the anthem was hummed by three confused alpacas in wigs. They dueled with eggplants dipped in glitter and mischief, Arguing over whose grandmother invented gravity first. One launched a tactical yawn from a diplomatic trebuchet, While the other retaliated by baking a treaty into pie. A baby grand piano parachuted in to moderate, But it got distracted and started dating a vending machine. The war ended when both sides simultaneously forgot why it started, And signed a truce made entirely of expired yogurt lids.

Gay and fun enter Iran for one final party.

Kids got to learn that being kind doesn't mean punching people.

For me Zionism is an unfortunate apology to the fate of many who survived in Europe and found themselves suddenly in the middle east by no fault of their own. Not a matter of guilt, but history unfolding.

Onto fictions or Predictions: The savage Iranian lifts his fist and wags his tail. He is screaming a load of missiles through the hole of his mouth, eyes flaming like acid torches.

She Moves Without Footfall The hallway stretches, pulsing like breath— walls weep rust and whisper your name. She is behind you, always behind you, not running, not walking, just there. A dress stitched from moth wings, eyes like unopened letters. You never saw her face— but she knows yours as if she was born inside your sleep. Every door leads back to the first one. You try to scream but the air melts, warm as a childhood fever. You remember someone you loved, and that’s when she laughs.

In the war against Gaza there were things that happened that were done very well, for all of humanity, by the bravest soldiers on the planet.