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It is a hot August night — the same kind you remember from that summer after high school graduation. A cool breeze blows in off the ocean, sweeping across the boardwalk just hard enough to dry the …
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81420
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here’s the deal…
sorrow follows tears…
pain later for the happiness now…
is the joy something we only borrow…?
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Suddenly I'm not feeling it anymore. /
Poetry has become insufficient. /
I can't do it like I used to.
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82020
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“Good to see you, old man,” Greg said. He was like that, an investment banker, a latter-day Tom Buchanan without the polo ponies, self-consciously fusty.
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Sure my man. Show me the token I’ll show you the slice.
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Doreen takes Butchie’s hand, steadies it in the can opener, counts “One-two-three”–and slams the chrome handle down.
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I have become a prisoner of my own fractured mind/ A paranoid weirdo behind the horizontal bars of window shades
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" I have no idea what's goin on out here, and I'm gonna find out one way or another."
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“My fellow Americans,” says his boss, leader of the free world. “The orbit of the moon has been disturbed. No longer revolving around the earth, the moon now hurtles toward the earth. Impact is expected within days.
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They’ve got the tourists
On the top deck of the bus
Wrapped up in large yellow
Plastic garbage bags
Riding through the City in the rain
The yellow bags flapping in the wind
Yelling in the numerous languages
At the top of the world
The to
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95220
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He did not seek a place on a cabinet, nor to impress stockholders with placards of wealth and return; he did not enumerate the downtrodden and asocial with advertised miracle treatments, or write a best seller on the markings of success. All he did, all h
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Time stole you from underneath the goldendock. Writhing there, slick as a flapping tongue;lips gored, red, whose gaping could embolden weak hands behind the blazing buck blade, long ago pierced in your summer quietus, beneath the soft shade of a tackle box, as the…
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Prayer: Cold prayers in her throat, so far all unanswered. This thing grows steadily, unmistakably, cobbling counterfeit cells and flesh together into an unspeakable mass.
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Beard of Bees
My father always used to say to me, he said "Son" (he called me son) "Son. Falling in love is easy. Getting into the Guinness Book of World Records is hard".
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The man could be a total brute, though the truth was he had the softest of hearts too. A real gentle giant. But get him going on a drunk jag with too much ouzo in his system, and look out.
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I’m starting to feel more interested in my savings account.
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His name was Gino. I’ll leave out the last name, not that I think it matters anymore. He came into my dad’s gas station on the near North side of Chicago to have work done on his fancy car. I was still a teenager. I accidentally opened the glove compartme
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I saw you, old man, in the desertof iron and copper and cold.No sorrow there to subvert,your eyes repulsed by the gold,examine the joy of an apple,ponder the despair of a peach.The words you wish to unravelare words beyond limits of speech.I can tell you hide a strong…
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I stop for Coup de' Villes and blue eyed men who runmarathons of ghosts and what if I was in love with a boy named Roberto in our Spanish class in High Schoolwho was half Japanese and half German and preferred penises to my virginity and what if the boy next door…
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She had the smile of a pixie on mushrooms in a disco ball universe, and I dug her style.
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Sarge had done this before. Not with this many rookies and not on a one-way trip. This was a suicide mission. The boys didn't know it, but he did. They weren't coming back. Hell, they couldn't come back
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The town is a wheel-less prairie schooner aground in a vast field of static
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Forgive me father for I have sinned.”
“Tell me how you have sinned, my son?”
Lies, father. I have told lie after lie in pursuit of my personal gain. I have lied to my family, my friends, to thousands of people who desired nothing from me but the tr
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Green Ridge, Missouri features a horseshoe pit on the town square and not one but two full-time village idiots.
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one numberless character, an army of rants marching one by one, sand by sand, we move mountains this way…
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Is this a tenure track position?
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Justin comes out of the bathroom, finally erect, his hands glistening with K-Y jelly as he chucks the girlie mag into a corner. “I'm ready.” Through the afternoon's soft-filtered light, Kelly watches him climb on top of her and thinks of…
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