Lollipop Magazine

Blood on the Tracks of My Tears on My Pillow – Fiction

October 1, 1997

It feels as if the universe took a deep, final breath, shuddered, and collapsed, leaving nothing but an infinite black hole in the center of your being.

Believe Me, I Was There – Fiction

October 1, 1997

I didn’t have anything against Jes. I didn’t know she was his fuckin’ sister. If I’d known, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten involved, but then again I doubt it.

Iggy Pop – The World’s Forgotten Boy Remembered – Fiction

September 1, 1997

Iggy Pop was rock ‘n’ roll personified. He had it all: the songs, the voice, the look, the attitude, the sex appeal, the words… hell, even his name: Iggy Pop.

The Culture Bunker – Two Thumbs Up some very uncomfortable places – Fiction

September 1, 1997

“I’ve been carrying this vital piece of classified intel for days and I’ve got to get it to Ominous-Looking Government Headquarters in Qualico-Over-Quantico!”

Sammi – Fiction

September 1, 1997

“Our first jumper is nearing her mark. Sammi is twelve years old and has a police record dating back five years. Her hobbies include music and vandalism.”

Psychopharmacology, Audiobooks, and the Possession of Literature – Fiction

September 1, 1997

“Possession is nine-tenths of literature,” my cousin once said, his tongue firmly holding title to cheek.

Going Down the Road Feeling Bad – Fiction

September 1, 1997

Indeed. We live amidst Giants. Here, in the present tense. Currently. Used to be, a guy needed the right kind of ears to bear witness to Prophecy.

Your Hero Complex is Bull – Fiction

July 1, 1997

While terrifyingly large creatures, Michael fancied he saw the same desperation in the bulls. But it’s difficult to read the expression of a stampeding bull.

The Culture Bunker – Welcome to the Messiah Complex – Fiction

July 1, 1997

We manufactured designer “accessories of Godliness” at the Sweatshop of Heavenly Piecework. These were rare and glorious times and I have the scabs to prove it.

Signs You Are Too Drunk – Fiction

July 1, 1997

You lose arguments with inanimate objects. You fall off the floor. The shrubbery’s drunk from too frequent watering.