I want to ask him why not now, right here on the living room floor when Rosie is out for the day. Instead, I suggest Sunday afternoon. I can make grilled cheese sandwiches and we'll eat them on the veranda. I'll take off my tennis skirt and unbutton my...

39. They put each of us in solitary confinement. Jacinto's room was long and narrow. Mine was a white cubicle. Alice's reminded me of a dank basement when they threw her in. Then, after three days of bread and water, the…

The husband entered my friend's home and shot him dead

When her mind was good

I was sitting in the bar With lava lamps all around Feeling like an f'ing hippie From Mississippi When the planet spun around And the time was backing up And an eentzy weentsy puff of weed It just flew right outta my mouth And I hopped

.

People usually take fonts for granted.

"Oh — what is this 'work' thing the philosophers speak of" sort of thing. ¶ He's honestly curious, from his point of view.

I'll see her this fall, a redhead in camo

Today the color of the skyremakes my heart into somethingless willing to break, or to judge,and I am thankful for it. Acolor not unlike walking chestdeep in the ocean and seeingbeautiful clouds and thinking Iwill be back. Dreaming with the sky.Please stop lying to me. A…

Why are we not the clouds?

We were at a friend’s house warming party, and Wendy lounged about with a suspicious smoke between her fingers beside me, after a while saying, “What is Being, anyway?”

"I never had malt liquor.” “You’re gonna have some tonight—unless you’re a pussy.”

IN nature, it's hard to find a straight line. Stand on a beach. Look out to sea. There out far you might think you see a line where the sky comes down to join. Where two fields of blue meet. But where you're not quite sure for the line is a blur there. You…

soft voices singing somewhere in the black back of rising tensions crashing with the waves...

Your voice is yearning, Like a sad song on the radio, A yarn spun to make hearts break.

in White Heat there’s a character who reads lips using a mirror to see the mouths of prisoners in other cells that’s how I feel when I talk with you