Benjamin Butz-Weidner
Bio
I've come here to tell my tales, and share my truths.
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Stories (5/0)
Guilt
Guilt is a dog licking his dick behind you while you’re trying to work. It’s red wine losing its edge and cigarettes only giving you the urge to vomit. Guilt is being distracted by the world around you: the dog licking his penis, the bad wine, the cyber monday deals, and the rewards points you might get on your Amex shopping them. Guilt is denying that you believe in God despite buying tickets for Yom Kippur services in March. Guilt is giving a junkie your rent and avoiding the news when you realize you might have bankrolled his last hurrah. Guilt is thinking with your dick. Guilt is not sleeping (alone). Guilt is the privilege to lie. Guilt doesn’t go away because you write about a dog licking his dick; dogs do that every day. Guilt is the routine. Guilt is calling your mom too many times a day. Guilt is buying your girlfriend silver. Guilt tries to make you laugh. Guilt is like smoking. Guilt is the smell of dick on a dog’s breath. Guilt is pretending you’re a dog when you walk on two legs.
By Benjamin Butz-Weidner2 months ago in Poets
- Top Story - February 2024
The Inheritance of Mr. Ronald Donaldson
The empty beer bottle echoed against the hollow fifth of gin as Ron rolled it onto the floor. Focusing on the screen of his iPhone 5, he searched to see what rates his fluids would fetch at blood and sperm banks, hoping to come by quickly - with a poke or a pull - the $767 he needed. It was Wednesday, the 29th of the month, and if he did not pay the rent, his landlord had promised him, his “ass would hit the curb.”
By Benjamin Butz-Weidner3 years ago in Psyche
- Top Story - February 2021
Our Nostalgic CollectiveTop Story - February 2021
The classic ride parked in the carport of a mid-century home at the top of a well-watered green hill. A rundown gas station, desolate, neon glowing in the mist of night. A laundromat full of chrome, empty except for a handsome young man in a white T-shirt, jeans, and red Converse high-tops. The scenes of an America once hailed the world over as prosperous, advanced; an America gone; one that, perhaps, only ever existed in our imagination.
By Benjamin Butz-Weidner3 years ago in Photography
