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The absence sits on the window sillIt looks like the tree growing in front of itlimbs long and crookedwretched clocktime passes like torn silkShe sits at the mirror looking past thingsHer TV blasts the newsconfront the questionCovid -19 The vaccinationTrump is…
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And now the McRib
is back. Two dollars.
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[JESUS LOVES YOU MORE THAN ANYBODY, BUT HE'S DEAD. NO-ONE COULD EVER LOVE YOU AS MUCH, OR YOU THEM, SO DON'T EVEN TRY. HAVE A NICE LIFE! MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!]
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to the back of your mind like a box of unpacked yet beloved books if you want, but that's no life I want to explore any further with you. We don't have as much time as we once thought, to believe in something other than empty bottles lost in the…
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He ran over our elderly neighbor Lenard, but not on purpose, or at least not as far as we could tell; there wasn't any yelling, I mean, and he didn't look happy when he got out of the car, though who could really tell through a bear costume.
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The entire room seems waiting for me like an octopus behind a closed, chained door. The monk of the lamp knows he will get his daily turn-on if he prays loudly and just enough for it. The favorite chair has my blue dent in its punched…
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Going to the candy store at night in the section of town called Kalliope. Riding bike, trying to get there before it closed at ten. Getting candy at that little store with the glass containers and the rows and rows of candy. Getting milk there…
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I feel like writing a poem about my penis, my penis is not me although I am my penis. Sometimes dry as ginger ale. Sometimes dripping like a tap when a little plumbing is required and it is Sunday, the plumber's day off. I feel like writing a poem about my…
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Is it you with that fucking gold and platinum yacht?!?
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Innocent victims know their tonsils. Or know the sound of their forceful removal. Their mangled beauty is the grain that has gracefully substituted all the limb-hacking. The creature used to have a friend whose gestures were very harmless, …
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Cornelius van Linjpleel discovered and excavated for himself a lone Etruscan tomb not far from Populonia in 1898.
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PhD's in remorse. Babes without eyes. Presbyterian church-goers baked in their pies. Miss prim-and-propers stranded on meadows. Men rescuing cats then queuing for medals. I did not write this, I swear I did not write this. Saurian…
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Samson was also somewhat in hopes that his son Jason would become engaged in this minor capitalist enterprise and 'turned around' in his life.
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One of her favorites was of an old axe asleep on a desert floor. She told people the axe had the western lips of September. That it held the song of the ocean and the dreams of a scarecrow. Some thought she was mad to talk in such a way. Others believed h
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Train 664 leaves Thirtieth Street Station bound for New York City at 10:55. Concurrently, Train 663 leaves the station, headed for Harrisburg. Both trains are, confusingly, called The Keystone.If Mark and I have tickets for Train 664 because we plan to…
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The silver urn of ashes inscribed
with his unknown name.
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-Hey, life! Nobody answers? WTF?
-Ah life! Nobody answers me. Well, what did I expect?
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The moon once rose on its own
Now it takes a series of
Ropes and pulleys to get it up
Because it’s so old
And you can hear these audible groans
Coming from its craters
As it’s forced to listen to forgotten lovers
Obsessing over old lov
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My dog’s on suicide precautions. I had to take away all her eating utensils--even the chopsticks. So now she has to eat directly from the bowl. It doesn’t seem to slow her down.
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this one was abandoned... a splinter left under the skin, pushed out by protective flesh
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She asks if I only write about men, which I tell her is redundant. I also answer, “Yes, but sometimes I write about them as race cars, hyenas, vaginas, or God.”
She smirks like she wants to smile, but it’s stuck halfway out her door. Her happiness has
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He had been the innocent stooge for a young girl's selfish dreams. He vowed to be more careful. He would rather be lonely, if need be, than compromise himself with girls like that.
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It's 2am. The wind is moving at speed, whipping gently the tree branches, and their leaves rustle simultaneously to create a audible sound, like hands flipping through sheets of paper, or that feeling you get on your fingertips when going across a textured surface. I'm…
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Last night I dated the universe. What a hottie! I arrived on time and was feeling a bit spacey. Look at me, I said. I'm on time. Yeah, well, I invented time. I made sure you'd be here on time. Cool. Where do you want to go? Doesn't matter. Wherever we go I'm already…
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He blew out the candle. There was the tang of candle smoke, scattered by a sudden rush of wings, and the immediacy of another breathing thing in the dark. I heard the birdcage open, and the bird fluttering in there without crying out.
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He has one good eye and is missing the other. The socket of his missing eye squints with a disturbing and unfathomable insight.
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The tax man he is coming
But I got me no dough
Been looking for some new job
That’s going really slow
I bought a lottery ticket
But dropped it down the well
I went to see the psychic
She said I’d go to hell
Can’t cope, I just can’t cope
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And there on the street
Were a bunch of frantic pigeons
Picking over some discarded
Chicken bones
I mean they were really
Going to town on them
You know, frantic
Like there was no tomorrow
And then I saw it
A real sign of progress
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