The brain had elected itself Judas, sleazy loud with silver jangling In this grand guignol of new and quickly old concussion Limbs roasted themselves to occult temperatures Yet remained whitely chilled under air that strove to rub, scrape, signify …
There was only the sound of crickets.
Now, in her Toyota on the way back to Leicester, she knew he was right.
I caught her a-feasting with her eyes and smilin' at that Jesus- haired Waffle House cook, Dennis Roy, again and I said, “Merlene, my tiny kitty-kat, they's no reason to carry no torch for him ‘cause he may not be with us very long ‘cause, if you notice, they's no…
Let me tell you this:
while the meds are asleep
we silently weep on our guitars,
and our girlfriends make up
stories to cover the tracks
of their youth.
The two women were large as human snails and round as moons. They were visiting my husband, asking him for money. I had a feeling he would be nice to them, they were women, and they had breasts. Between the two round women, and myself, there were five real…
I offer you an orangeYou say you'd prefer an appleI offer you an orangeYou say, noI want an appleYou say you had a bad experienceWith eating an orangeHmmm, I sayYes, but what does it matter?You say you are not eating the orangeUnder no circumstances will you everEat an…
It was like watching one of those vintage eighteen-frames-per-second films of someone trying to open a stuck umbrella.
A cult is one thing; it defies common sense that a commonly educated person cannot escape cultist thinking and belonging. That cult, A.A., is girded by police, fire, therapy, hospitals, insurance companies, and courts.
No one has the right/
to script how someone dies.
We'd never forget Bud's crooked spine humping up his shoulder and how his forehead slumped low over a mouth of jagged brown teeth. We repeated his birth story; an aunt who'd bore him deformed, back and hip and head, a mooncalf.
Above the trees at the top of the lane, the Dublin Mountains stretch out in their low granite might, Neolithic graves scattered here and there, and the corries and ribbon lakes carved by the last Ice Age glazed by a winter covering of frost and ice.
1. we got off at the same stop. you approached me as i walked towards the stairs. i saw you looking at me, you said. i wasn't. i was looking at your magazine's cover. i don't remember what i said. i wanted to explore how to exist as myself however i wanted. i wanted to get…
it felt fucking awesome at that moment, in that way only little things can feel huge and life affirming