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I thought I would beThe standing champagne glassunmarked and gleamingThe sleeping silverParalleling matesInert as ChinaBut I was the catasleep on the rug
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I do not jerk up to sirens birds doorbell shouts hello hello through the letterbox hello
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He lives a simple life, the docks, an occasional woman of questionable morals and brewskis.
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Shit, I guess I'm gonna hafta
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In the afternoon, there was a certain time when the sunlight spilled through the windows in the common room and made everything look all bright and fresh and optimistic. If you ignored the patients and doctors milling about and…
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It was in his teeth. A blackness, a subscription to an outsideness, a painful contraction of burnt out trees scattered there among sand drifts and tidal debris. His face, lightly weathered and troubled, a tightness built into eyes of thought and separation. His arms, strong…
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Charlie is hollering about Rex again. Every dinosaur right now is Rex. Also Rex: every animal with thick-looking skin--elephants, crocodiles. (Yesterday, he pointed to an ant and told me, "Buggy Rex.")
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Marcy was not herself today, her mother said when the school called. She was under the weather and she could not play with the other children. Marcy's mother began to suspect that her daughter was not herself very early on that day. Walking up the stairs Dolores…
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What if
Everything
I have been doing
Hasn’t been heard
By anyone?
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*A"Cento" which is a "patchwork poem" using the words of other writers. for V.W. …
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They heard Chu’s voice, he was lying ten feet away, his skull opened up.
“Find my change,” was all he was saying. “I left my change around, look for it."
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I was told, take him round the back and deal with him.
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A hymn for her
when his head
cocks shameless.
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Bracing himself against the wind, Zach gets to his feet without a thought for direction or destination. In the white forever of this place, there is no lantern to light the dark and bitter woods of memory. Even the croakers would find little use for such
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Purchance to dream purchase ants to dream running Catalan sidewalk schoolyard fumble days berlin wall came tumbling down tumbling down tumbling down the mexico wall come tumbling down fuck you, Gorby. Head to radio, broadcast Hitler kill the generation di
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Daddy? Yes, hun. What do you think about life? Did you ask your mother? I'm asking you. (lowers newspaper) Well, (squinting eyes) life gives you so much pumpkin. ! and (like a whip) and..? (brows almost touching the hairline)…
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Flicking through the sheets on her clipboard, Evelyn double checked the address with the mismatched numbers on the letterbox. Its mouth was a rusty, gaping grin like it had lost its dentures.
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Only ever been twelve men on the moon. And one cheese.
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Margie sprayed the gift with her most expensive perfume and tucked it into her sweater’s front pocket. This way she could hold it close to her on the subway, so no one would see the pretty wrapping and try to snatch it from her
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I had a dream about being in a vintage alley that had bowling balls with adjustable relations to gravity
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Creamcheese straightened out that spectacular yellow dress, tucking a fully exposed nipple back in under the material. She pulled down the hem of the dress, then strolled right into the Savoy like a wooden duck being pulled on a string, and headed straigh
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The rocks are hot along the East RiverBelow hazy skies sent from Jersey Traffic.Pigeons peck at pieces of detritus,Walking calmly by pedestrians passingThrough the park during their allotted lunchHour. A girl with a strange frame —As if her ribs fused with her hips…
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King's splendid stronghold Pressing down the earth below Broken by the grass
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At the time, Leanne was meant to be going with Daryll Keyser. She played bells in Mr. Davis’ marching band, and Daryll played tuba. On the bus home from Tulip Festivals, still in their uniforms, they’d do things to each other in 10-minute turns...
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My name is Jeremy, and I am in love with a zombie.
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My famous ‘Black Feminist Casserole’ was soon renamed ‘34C casserole’.
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www.echapbook.com/fiction/ratch
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So what happensTo the VFWIn a global economyAnd the monumentsErected in reverenceAfter the boysWho became menCame back homeTo be fathersThen grandfathersGreat-grandfathersAnd start to fall awayAs the days creep byThat petty paceOf politics as usualFamily DiasporasAnd maybe…
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May is National Masturbation Month. How do I know? My pal Senior Sex Expert Joan Price is not only vigorously celebrating, but doing everything she can to spread the word.“I'm on it!” I assured her when she told me. “Thanks.”…
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