The time has come to scrape the wax from my menorah.

I held at my gut and immediately regretted laughing at Frank when he pulled the pocket-knife out on me. I doubled over and fell to the floor. "John, was a typer all this important?" Frank asked, knife in hand.

It’s Sunday- no need to shave-/ but shave, I do. A little act// of discipline in the discipline/ of routine.

The calculation was precise.

If girls have keys for fingers then locks cannot hold them.

Sophie hoped that Ryan would just stay in the bathroom and never come out. Her stomach turned just thinking about him, but wealthy nerds were easier to work than wealthy regular guys. No self-esteem, no experience with women…no problem.

Brody was standing against the wall with one hand in his hip pocket, as if he was holding a gun. The motel was set in the undergrowth of several weedy small towns, but a flashing neon sign made it impossible to miss from the road. We used it as a safe hou

I didn’t always have this metal thing poking out of the top of my head. I used to be a self-respecting farm animal amongst a barnyard of toys, but then the kids grew up.

The trash is full. Again. I open the bathroom trash—because the diaper genie is stuffed—but there’s no room. I try the kitchen next. The lid swings open, catapulting carrot shavings onto the floor. I lay the diaper on the counter for later.

You could hear her coming from a long way off as she kept trying to catch her breath, like she was getting the fun rattled out of her bones. But it was laughter, laughter that kept on filling up her belly from the inside, and she was having tr

for paul celan take it like an amulet a jewel like a tulip filling up the expanse of green the volatile view from within your thin wrist you write into manuscript for the hand is a map with but grasping still it is but a like two palms like a…

Be careful when you choose your muse, for she may be a siren.

I knew I spoke out of turn when I asked my father's old friend Charlie Jobe what he thought would come of moving to the veterans' camp, or "Village of the Deranged", as the newspaper has since taken to calling it. That was their description after all the

In the cool, damp morning, Jeremiah trembled, from the weight of the gun, from fear he would miss.

He pours another shot and says: Then I buried it in the yard. The time capsule I mean. You have to plug it in to see. I wonder if they’ll know.