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Adultery and Africa

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“What would you think if I committed adultery?” She pauses very briefly before replying. “What, you got time on your hands?”

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 3

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That put a real crimp in our already crimped sex life. Actually I didn’t mind as much as Allison minded. It made her real grumpy when she didn’t get laid. I could never understand how she could bear so much pain, because she was so small that it was l

The Celebrity

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I love reading about myself. There's nothing more gratifying than seeing my name in the paper, knowing so many people are interested in who I am and what I do.

Trophy

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I remember ...all the teenagers offered no-longer favored CDs, last year's cell phones, third-place trophies, team jerseys, played-out videogame cartridges, and candy-colored miniature stuffed animals...

Just Kidding

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Your place is extra. No it isn't. It is, baby. The man was as aroused by her discomfort as he had been annoyed by her laugh. She wasn't laughing now.

I Am Not A Careful Reader

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What's the weirdest thing you've ever used as a bookmark? I work in a library. I've seen that, and more.

Octopus

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My ride, my good friend Morning was due any minute, but of course, he/she was always late. My costume was a dog. I was stuck to another dog, in the act of passion. A stuffed one. A basset hound. I said my name was Lightning.

Lottery Ticket

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  Tony sat down in the hotel room with his back against the wall. He had a handsome face, with three-day stubble growing from it, his pupils very large as if frightened by something, or from deep thought. In his hand, was the winning lottery, Periodically he would get up…

from Flatlander's Suite

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Under nervously flickering fluorescent lights / your name will grow / fed by the tongues of Those Who Never Leave

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 17

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So back to Berkeley we went, and started our own commune in a huge rented house on Derby Street where we could tear the fences down in all the neighborhood backyards. We created what we called “The Meadow.”

The Plunderer

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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…

At Night in the Field

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“Ol’ Betty has a nice set of headlights,” he says with a wink as he springs out of the recliner.

Having Read the Poems of Matt Dennison

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Having read the poetry of Dennison I hereby give up writing.

Phenomenology

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Someone will labor to keep it alive/ although the body will want but/ to return to random particles

Seascape

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They had been wintering on the Cape under gunmetal skies...

Ibby's Falafel

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Dark hung over the night like an occupation force. Across the street a Cuban diner fought it off with green and yellow neon lights, Latin rhythm beating through the air.

How To Write Funny

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I've never really been impressed with authors that write long teary-eyed novels about people dying of terrible diseases or uplifting stories about the armless boy who made the wrestling team.

Snake Walk

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The Viper turns so quickly that Father's grabbing hand now faces its head instead of its tail.

Occasional sunshine

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‘Didn't you used to have a daughter?' The tense and phraseology jarred, but he was inarticulate not ignorant, awkward rather than unaware of how it sounded and she smiled at him.

The Karaoke Girls

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The Karaoke Girls are not appreciated. Not nearly enough and not often enough.

Meander

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Things are a little out of hand. Information fills room after room after room. I have no bloody idea where I am. I have your photo, but the navigational coordinates are difficult to interpret. Where the hell are you, anyway? I don't like mazes — too much like…

Dancing Beneath a Gazebo

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We learned to dance beneath a gazebo / in Spring Lake Park / We were fourteen

The Red Suitcase: Part 1

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He had become an accessory to a murder.

News That Stays News

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Some trick of the morning light makes the tattoo on her ankle look like the burn from a branding iron. She had watched her father as he slept last night. He was handsome and innocent, like a baby boy.

Jim Shows Me Twelve Jesuses

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in cinematic snippets, ten-second scenes of twelve Sons …

Fair-Weather Best Friends Forever

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“How scared?” Mikey said, not wanting to find out, and already looking pretty nervous.

The Parade Path

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Beautiful, a country left abandoned by the parade path. The soldiers that typically occupy this place, temporarily removed to neighboring lands; congregating together, backs to the native. I benefit from the accidental diversion.

Dealing With a Small Box Epidemic All On Our Own

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Sometimes you've just got to dance to Be heard. You have got to sing out loud To be understood. Other times No matter what you splash 'n' paint on 'em The beauty goes on shamelessly Not arousing any type of newfound Curiosity. We're…

RT @dadaism #amwriting

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How much do book editors earn? Peacock Love. (aww…)

The Little Things (three versions)

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It's the little things that trip us up: a small hole in a level field, an innocuous root in a well-trod path, a disinclined sidewalk...