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I find Vermeer and Bach and feel/
for a moment a shower of my own world’s/
prismatics.
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each act of creation is a jolt of expectation
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with cool confidence
and believable body language
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Our local low rent ice-based superhero said he’d had enough and would check back in early spring.
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on this scenic route you will likely encounter a handful of bicycle spoke lobster traps.
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Grey would rather be in the trees or down by the river. When a wind comes up, he grabs the wooly blanket from the hook in the barn and calls Phoebe. They stretch the blanket out between them and sail into the grassy meadow that slopes down the hill from t
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Well, it's midnight and here I am drinking alone at the Stick It Inn, watching the clock because that cute, brunette waitress with the home wrecker tits, Julie, is working again, thank ya, Jesus, and she just came over and murmured she'd be off at one and come over and…
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With the whole bizarre crowd surrounding us like birds on shit covered cliffs, offering up a bowl full of choppy seas to the many bored and stuffed sky gods, we danced our way into all their hard shell covered hearts as one thing. Still they never knew our hiding …
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screw everything, youth is plinko
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He introduced me to key lime pie, and for this alone I would have loved him forever. It was an innocent time for me, and I was easy to please.
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Humanity comes without a choice
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We honor fierce, quick, cunning/
thought-in-action types
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i was jus countin' your heartbeats, Emmie
and you know what?
i think they's the same as mine!
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the / future is now incomplete
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He sat at the bar and waited for her. He looked at the noon drinkers with indifferent eyes.
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she's greeting everyone like she's the new fucking Queen of England with her size Z tits, the sequined gown clinging to her overstuffed figure like a mold she'll have to live with,
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Somewhere a banjo, somewhere a hound.
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Sun strikingGolden snow glistens Across empty fieldsLong winter shadowsTrees like fingers The morning in their grasp
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She slipped into a silky sheath dress, and stepped into black sequined heels just as the doorbell rang. Her date had arrived to take her to his much touted Art opening in town. Reaching under the bathroom sink for a final mist of hair spray she realized too late…
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The hair on my arms have greyed, or so that's how it looks to me. It's been 12 years since we last spoke. I think I haven't aged too well. I bought a rocking chair.
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I am constricted by rings. The weight of self crushes me.
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Spying is a different concern. Privacy also. I feel there is a loss of privacy just in believing or realizing it is possible; our forebears did not experience loss of privacy digitally, perhaps in another way.
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I am a 33 year old drag queen, and I frequently confuse my dreams with reality. Each morning, I awake to a research project: what has actually occurred, and what was a dream? Today I woke up believing I'd lost a pound, so I weighed myself, and I was right.…
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I stomped up the steps clearing my shoes of snow. I was wearing my Rooskie fur hat with the ear flaps, and I kept it on when I went inside.
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Every year I have a birthday, and every year
another of my friends succumbs to cancer or suicide.
That's
a shitty gift. That is devoutly not to be wished.
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Now Carver Smithton has a paunched belly as stout as the beer that fills it. His upper lip is thick, fat and flat like a caterpillar run over by a semi on Highway 17.
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The spoken world is bigger than I had ever imagined it to be, wonderful and relentless and unforgiving, and to be a part of it was my grandest childhood fantasy. I don’t know what the world sees me as now, but inside I will always be a stutterer.
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inside i know my heart rattles
cause outside i'm only seeing
that the truth is in tatters
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