Alphabetical stories

In Which Lovers Separate, As Always

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We used to find ourselves watching a World War II documentary, but from the periphery of our vision; because our tongues would be swishing against each other, and we’d be breathing each other’s wind; and we wouldn’t be as in to it as we used to but we wou

In Which Mad Dog Kicks French Women's Bony Butts

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If Mad Dog were interrogated by female U.S. forces in a combat-riven no-woman’s-land to see if he was really an American, he couldn’t name the most recent WNBA champion.

In Which My Girl Hits Me With Various Big-Ticket Appliances

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My girl hit me with an ice cream freezer. She did it ‘cause she said she didn't want me to tease her.

In Your Absence

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In Your Absence the yard-cat, Flower, has started sleeping on top of the fridge

In Your Dreams

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What did it mean? What would a psychologist say? Oh, who cares. In my opinion, we ask why, what, when, where, and how too often.

Inaccrochable

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The man is wiry and jumpy. There is a tattoo on his upper arm of Charles Manson. He jumps and jumps. He looks like a man on a pogo stick. He will not stop jumping.

Inaction (or a disease of consciousness)

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“... More weighty than wisdom or wealth is a little folly" (Ecclesiastes)

Inbox (1)

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The email landed in his inbox.He'd been staring at the empty screen for a while now even though, really, he hadn't been expecting anything to arrive, yet there it was.He sat and stared, not daring to click it. He knew he shouldn't have sent a mail in the first place. He…

Incantation beyond Relief

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Double, double oil and trouble; 
 Spill and burn and caldron bubble. Back and forth make strong the stride. Even now pace the pride. Stepping stones that dot the slough make way for the clean up crew. I promise safe crossing. Straight…

Incantatory Plea to the Civic on Interstate 75

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May the timing belt stand the stress again

Incidentally

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It started (or maybe ended) with the boot flying off the balcony and bouncing in the dead grass in front of our building.

Incivility for Breakfast

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I gently honked my horn and gave her the kind of friendly neighbor wave that only friendly neighbors can give. She didn’t wave back. What the hell is her problem?

Incompetent Translation: Le Bateau ivre

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At five o’clock in the afternoon, at five o’clock / in the afternoon

Inconsequential

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I write poems as if language matters.

Inconstant Nature

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I think for a second that I should have called my husband out to witness this thing, but I am instantly made aware of why I have not.

Inconvenient Weather

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With the sudden thrust// of April green, we can forget/ our drought continues.

Indentured Servitude

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"I’m wearing a white sundress with little strings tied at the shoulders, sheer white panties, and a lace push up bra." It sounded good, sexy, likable. The kind of outfit a girl he’d fall in love with would wear- if he was prone to love, that is. "That sou

Independence Day

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It’s Independence Day. But I’m not feeling independent.

Independence Day

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Not long ago, Owen the Second showed her a skull. He kept it in a brown cardboard box in the top of the closet. "My first wife," he said, and sneered, his lip bunching up around a scar just under his nose.

Independent Assiduity, part one

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This is me pitching a recently completed screenplay to a film producer at lunch the other day:

Independent Living

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The transformation in their domineering, sour mother revised her children’s memories of their childhoods.

Indestructible

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With furrowed brow, he took the plastic stems and began to beat the blossom ends against the black brick wall.

Indian Summer

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I'm wonderin how'd your momma and pop get you to give up a whole summer to spend in this dusty old polio museum we call a house?

Indigo Man

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Poetry - 101

Induce Me

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Life's a beach? A bitch? Same thing.

Indulgence

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I crave the confines of the convent

Industrial Revelation

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I tell my students about a timewhen seniority was told by the number of fingers on a worker's hands No weekends or overtime, children — bare toes dangling — twelve hours on the line I look for…

Inelegant Corpse

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I lay naked on the floor, feet toward the door, so that when my wife entered she would immediately see that leggy thoroughfare, ending at deflated buttocks and chicken-skinned scrotum, and in her repulsion repel me from her life. How wrong I was.

Ineluctable

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I attended the burial of our affair when I found the notebook-maybe it should be called her diary-she had foolishly forgotten, leaving it on the deck of my beach house where she stayed while I was on that short trip to Chicago and I was numbed at first, unsure how to…

inevitable

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