The Kate Crash is Experience lives here. Here’s her latest piece.

The team over at Industry Nexus is trying something kinda of cool. Each week a newauthor delivers a different chapter in the same story. You can read the whole thing at Industry nexus. Chapter 2: Valley of the Smog Hollywood smelled like…smoggy garbage, as Ali discovered when her bus dropped her at Hollywood and Highland. […]

You can read more Kate Crash at MySpace and if the world was a better place it’d bring him to me instead of leaving me always ghost hungry and questioning… everything with the mirage of his words that for a moment makes me holy and then he’s gone.. vrshhh.. and i never know if he […]

This week we have three untitled shorts from Kate Crash. Short #1 NO!!!” me“do it now!” sheI don’t move. I’d rather lay in bed all day and be bored than clean my room or find a hobby like a boyfriend like half the girlls in this town. I hear her stomping down the stairs and […]

An experiment crafted by the team of Industry Nexus. Ali spent her last semester at the University of Kentucky putting together her Hollywood plan. She never called it the LA plan because LA was a city for all kinds of people – lawyers, secretaries and florists all live in LA. Hollywood was more than a […]

The Kate Crash Experience Lives HERE.   I think, if I could just hang on for one more day I’ll figure it out I’m so close and far from knowing what it’s all about I think “great this is the right way” then “wait is this what I really want?” Am I selling out or […]

Kate Crash is Los Angeles artist, poet and all around rockstar. She can also be read (make sure you check out her art) here and heard here. There are goosebumps on my skin. Hearts Fleshy white moons A question of how to love and not serve His breath is even, in his sleep He grabs […]

You can hear, see, touch, smell and taste more of Kate Crash here!   The beauty of the dying sun sinking behind the hills beyond the freeway carrying with it my last few strings to youth that kept me kited and now I’m knighted to the poetic dream of my non reality. The end of […]

She peels me. At this moment, I am passionless about anything but sleep.  Slumbering with an  O shaped mouth exhaling foul sounds of joyous content. Yawning bends in the back unracked, blissful. Tension marooned beneath a down comforter, lost in cashmere toe warmers. My head dizzies from a dawn swim and extra buttered French toast, […]

Greg Mills can also be read at the Bastard of Art and Commerce “Buttocks,” the Grand Inquisitor hissed,”Buttocks wins again.”