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Biting off your own tongueBlistering boils, stumps of burnt hairChopping your hand off with a dull axeDrowning in a swimming pool of blood and pissDrinking dog puke from a brown paper bagEating the intestines of your uncle three months deadFalling into barbwire covered…
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Everybody knew the buildings were trying to kill us.
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Meet Carl. He's six-three, two hundred and thirty pounds. He has light-brown hair,…
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[WARNING: THIS FILM CONTAINS PROLONGED SEX SCENES OF AN EXTREMELY EXPLICIT NATURE AND SCENES OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, WHICH SOME VIEWERS MAY FIND SHOCKING AND DISTURBING.]
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I saw God sobbing in a wheelchair. I saw God on the ceiling of your bedroom on Illinois Street while you were inside me the first time. (I remember so many things… Do you remember who I am yet?) I saw myself, far away in a window – the swan on earth
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My music teacher, Luigi Biagi, told me that he was done with me. He said it was time I moved on to more specialized teachers. Since my passion was composing and arranging, he recommended Al Fine.
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In the privacy of a booth?
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These things were indeed the wealth of our respective nations.
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“You own your own burial plot, but you don't own your home,” he'd said, and I couldn't help but agree.
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And then there was this girl from Boston, named Pat, who was a little on the hefty side and wouldn’t get off me. And I was skinny then too. She wanted sex so much and so often that the whole time I visited her apartment in Cambridge, after I graduated f
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He fingered her lighter off the table during a party hoping she would come over and talk. She was just on the other side of the coffee table but the stereo was so loud, belly or dee lite or some other early 90's dance…
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Naked chest, Naked nipples...
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which consisted of me being shoved down a flight of stairs. Thanks to a PELL grant in 1996, I was triumphantly run-over by a family Winnebago in the critically acclaimed, Run-Over. This lead to a series of “happenings” I conducted in alternative space
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Call me crazy, but I like to write poetry. For cats.
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He had expected more -- at least his grandfather's classic Packard touring car.
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Life is a beach, not an enormous ashtry.
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Is death like standing in a room at night and turning off the lights? You would still hear your breathing. You hold your breath. Silence. Darkness. Yet you feel gravity, your feet on the floor. Then the air brushes your skin. Remove the air,…
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Douchey Jake made me cry until my eyes puffed so much I couldn't see through them. I said hey look, to my friends who slept on the futon, don't I look like one of those dolls with the real fake eyelashes? The truth is I've been pretending I don't…
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The rain fell from the roof. It fell from my voice and and my eyes. Toshiro's Kukichiro stomped gutshot through the mud with his katana. Young and beautiful, Mifumi died there on the screen though he doesn't really die for fifty or more years, they think from something…
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Bill (Gunnery Captain of the Left Hand Gun, HMM Plunderer), while not exactly obese, nor could a disinterested observer call him him rotund, was nevertheless the sort of man who'd never be caught by a famine unprepared. And because of this more than regulation…
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“Little Pig, Little Pig, Let me in.” One of them yelled out from behind the door. The wolves always loved to taunt him, itched for any chance they could get to fight.
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Miriam smiled as I entered through the old, creaky metal front door of her home. She sat still, face marked of deep wrinkles, tense with the pain only another cancer patient would understand. In that soft, sweet, melodic voice, she greeted me. '"Hello Ms. Monica, I've been…
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A man alone in his paid-for living room, with his hands folded behind his head.
A man running from a bar, a bald man seen from behind.
Someone who made a wide circle to avoid your laughter.
A man undressing at the side of the road saying: “How y
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Tara was so tired. The bus connection was off again, and her ankles were so swollen. Maybe it was the heat, the humidity, she wasn't sure… but things were definitely getting worse. She sighed. At least the bus shelter had an empty spot on the bench, so as she…
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It's cloudy out. So I go to the Assisted Suicide Center on Venice Blvd. It doesn't mean I'm gonna off myself because it's cloudy. There just happens to be a kind of puzzle of clouds in the sky the moment I decide to head over there. I find it fitting, thi
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My man’s got a habit that’s kinda strange.
I’ve got a feeling he’s never gonna change.
Whenever I take a trip,
when I git back, my underwear’s ripped.
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Happy is a look we are trying to wear better
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mind heart soul will blood sweat tears muscle, and bone,/and then always something else—not more, just else . . .
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