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Do you remember who I am yet?
I remember the first time you made love to me. It appears I was one of the lucky ones … it wasn’t in a car, it wasn’t in your Dad’s boat, underwater, or any other weird place you've written about. It was actual
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179052
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"People do that. They cross the road when they aren’t supposed to and get away with it. They do it all the time. Only, then, he might think I was a rebel and I’d rather he imagine me a square. A square who never was a wild thing. A rebel who chose to be t
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Written in big letters
Across the back window
Of an old Pontiac:
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102553
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She worked the research desk. Like most ladies before computers and cell-phones she lead a quiet conservative life. She wore dresses, spent time with family and friends...Emma also had been stricken as a child
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98152
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My sweet granny was like Exhibit A that I was adopted. I mean, how can anyone be sure?
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Mama hung them everywhere. It started with just a few, in our apartment and outside on the brick. She made walls into windows.
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His spoken words had reavealed nothing, but the far-off look in his eyes had told me good-bye.
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"I was born very far from where I'm supposed to be. And so I'm on my way home."--Bob Dylan I don't owe you anything. If I'm a recluse what does it have to do with you? I have the right to be poor. Some things cannot be explained away by letters that…
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Obituaries aren’t as much fun
as they used to be.
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Granny says Jesus works quiet and curious but mama leaving with the UPS man weren’t no great mystery.
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Blinking, Eleanor frowned at the words she’d uttered. They were absurd… foolish. Unequivocally unscientific, but beautiful nonetheless. The notion of the sunless hours embodied as a clumsy artist struck the student as interesting.
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Due to recent enhancements to our billing system, the rate per unit for your basic service can no longer be determined.
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Our world is a prism floating through its own rainbow smeared shadows in a desperate attempt to get caught. Our lives are in the carpets, the planks, the winds. Whatever has heard us, has not believed in us enough to rescue us from our own …
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Star-eaterHere lies the star-eater.Tilting on the ancient wheelof summer-glaze-breath,you speak the oceans. Fire's the mealfor you, the star-eater. You defy death,and out of your mouth, a universe openspouring forth, as fleet as the starslight on your tongue. Space…
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What is writing, Rick B.? You appear in your photo to be more handsome than your first brother. Sudden memory appears: "Question mark? Curvy: cock. Exclamation! Stiff: prick."
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“I would like to keep my head, at least for a few more nights. Didn't you say we were gonna have sex one of these days? Isn't that in the manual?”
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I am a buttress against chaos. And now I am turning yellow.
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146354
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just wondering what one does when age and job skills narrow one's career options
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108154
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Been looking for guns.
His guns have turned up missing.
He’s been looking for the guns.
Looking for guns.
The au-pair must’ve snuck back in
And took the guns.
And the baby.
The baby must be crawling off with
Guns again.
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Are you interesting?Are you clever?Are you, maybe often, sometimes never?Are you shining? Pining?Are you glowing?Are you worth knowing?Are you a life without zest?Are you mainlining strife …
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About 10 years ago is when it started. I was 14, sitting at Pop's knee, listening to his stories, and Mom came in crying. She could hardly get words out.
I think that day was the last time I felt the sun.
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The war they wage fills everything with holes.
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Something I loathe even more than children are Floridian Drivers. It's not even because of their horrid driving capabilities, but more so because of their attitudes. Within the confines of their comfy little car, they are able to build up the…
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The bathroom had exposed rusty pipework, A minty lemonade smell, Ice in the urinal, And a wall of stone-cold mirror. She put some lipstick on, but it looked fake under the lint-covered bulb dangling overhead. She wiped off the lipstick but…
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facts are facets are / things in the act // the truth speaks softly // as time saying amber / to the enduring sap // words come and go / like leaves like men // we the tree remain ...
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But no matter how we died, we all end up here, in the Meadowlark Children's Cemetery.
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nevertheless, this crowd had come up with a universal cure for humanity, and regardless of consequences . . .
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On Saturday nights, they dream of you. You are the gas station they can’t own, the lottery they can’t win. You are beating up their boss, giving him a headache that will last through Wednesday morning, keep him home half the week.
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