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I was ashamed of my conscience.
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But Von Rotten was up in Penny’s room right this minute, either banging her or haranguing her, or worse, both. I envisioned him with her, and my guts began twisting and turning, and my insides fell into my shoes. What had I done? She was being held capt
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We are on Fox River and I am in the dark water swimming naked beside Rick DeMille with my white skin glowing as we come up behind you and Sharon in your dad’s ski boat sitting silent in the water, and I can hear Sharon whimpering, “Oh, Jesus! Jesus!” as
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My cell phone shakes; it’s my father’s voice calling my name - so far away - with long distance crackle and panic on the line.
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My first year I hated how big and unruly the plants got.
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I can't rememberI woke up in the hotel room lying on the double bed staring at the ceiling. The room was painted white with one window, overlooking a brick wall, shut tight so I couldn't open it. The door leading to the outside looked appealing so I got up out…
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Her eyeballs are made of fur, like plush little bumblebees at home in her sockets.
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The rain falls soft after a hard weekend.
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Μayday΄s evening, Sabbath of all witches : the moon, Earth΄s faithful sister, sends her light to illuminate the way as the great Grain Μother, Walpurga the Sky God΄s maiden lover transubstantiated now within the dolly as the Spirit of the Harvest animating…
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Secretly she suspected she was really a witch. She didn't have green skin or scraggly black hair, and certainly no flying monkeys. Maybe those came over time, the more bad things you did, the more ugly you became until all the world could see how horrible
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The Church of Chimera, which has tentacles in most cities, would like you to accept the existence of MEGACROCODOG, invisible possessor of the largest penis imaginable. You are promised an afterlife of bliss, as long as you pray to MEGACROCODOG and say his penis is the…
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He was the kind of cat who began lifting weights in the fourth grade.
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Ode to the Monterey PeninsulaWe love…to stand on Lovers Point in the early morning watching when the waves break how water droplets rise to form fleeting rainbows.to walk by Hawk Tower in the early evening imagining Robinson Jeffers…
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Whitman touched his share of skin
and didn’t think of it as sin,
and yet could bring himself to say
“What is more or less than a touch?”
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Hi Zin, Really enjoyed seeing you again at Miranda Sinned. Looked like you enjoyed doing the St. Vitus. Don't ask me how but I got rum and coke on my panties. When I got home, I had a craving for tongue and my honey's talking squid, later, some fruit loops without milk. Q.…
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Then there was Marsha, the blonde bombshell, at Irvine, who slept over one night only. As in the original one night stand, your standard L.A. blonde beach-girl bombshell ex-cheerleader tear your heart out and spit it as far as she could. Wrench your bal
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I spent the summer of 2001 in disguise;
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“You take the woman, you get her records,” Dean said, and he didn't seem the least bit troubled by the Streisand album.
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For Derek, Remembering Odd Jaunts in Overtoun I here remembered how we smoked and swam Under the cadenced pleasure of our under-days, Congealing cross-thoughts under oaken breeze, And watched the Turnered ocean of that swarm Last…
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We were fleeing Hurricane Katrina
We stopped somewhere in Texas at a roadside diner
But found a sign that said it was closed
All of a sudden as we sat there in our car
The shop’s owner knocked on the window
And asked what he could get for us
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His birthday buddy was like a wife to him: they were born a day apart.
This was coordinated, he believe, in the womb. Well, to be more accurate, wombs. She was due two weeks earlier but waited; he two weeks later but cut his womb-time (as the kids call i
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Then they made him stay after school and met with his parents. Scott was sent outside to play in an empty playground. He didn’t feel like playing. He sat on the steps outside the classroom and listened to his Dad shouting through the plastic walls.
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Time is a form of sandwich. Each component of the sandwich is nestled between night and day, which enclose it like slices of bread. There are minutes, hours, and seconds. Seconds are tiny, like sesame seeds. Minutes are a little larger. Think of them as p
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The story of a second, a stone, and an android -- all curiously interrelated and all, coincidentally, named Gretchen
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Listening to old friends speak the same way, the same things tells me they have been dead a long time. They are in their form of living, their self, there is no new season of growth. I witness each of them continue on the same path because it is familiar
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I don't know how to describe it, in the way that it should be.The ghosts of the founding fathersthru subway smoke and traffic light,visions of long before the Dakotasuccumbing to the myth of gravity,dead bodies stuck in water towerson the roofs of cheap hotels,counterfeit…
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Every day she loves me a little less, and justifies it by saying that there is less of me to love.
At some crucial, overlooked space in our life together, I used up my compassion and started to spend hers.
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The next week, she sends a small white box in the mail / with tissue paper, a ceramic mold the color of bleached bone—
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It's the way an earnest five-year-old boy pronounces every single letter as he whispers. Something about octopuses, something else about peas.
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Their son doesn’t eat anything. They can’t see how he keeps growing.
He’s like an air plant, living on air alone, all the while knowing
they themselves will never live on air alone again.
They sewed their wild oats. They lived their universal life
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