"On the eve of his daughter's birth, a whirlwind flared in the darkling haze of the North, inaugurating vestiginous insurrections against Nature. A netherworld pageant unfolded in rapid time. Mandragora sprouted from an unmarked grave; bees with human faces sprinkled pollen over the head of the slumbering Sodom. The dog collapsed into a violent, unstoppable bout of sneezing, its whole body convulsing, and died with dark blood foaming from his snout and penis. These tarns captured the image of the setting sun; in overwrought crepuscular arcades, cannibal scarecrows clashed. Ghost-drums hammered in the bleak cornfields. No matter how many times Philbin cast his dice, they turned up triple six."
-- James Havoc, Dogstar Pact.

``In the time it takes for one man to masturbate in his lonely bed, a million stars burn out; a million more are born. Rivers wend their way to sea, blades trace the curve of backbone under white and virgin skin.
Tonight, we have no sense of crime.''
-- James Havoc, Zodiak Breath

"Daybreak hangs from East to West like a triptych of electrocuted infants, an adumbration of the church that eats its young; Katrina bowls her last grapefruit across the frosen lake. Moths erupt, tangling in her shiny, treacherous hair.
Her hair of the colour Hell."
-- THE COLOUR HELL, by James Havoc

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