1781 7 5
|
Biscuits and gravy. I'm off today, I'm lazy.
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178100
|
“We all come out from Gogol's 'Overcoat'," said Dostoevsky. Well, sometimes, I think otherwise.
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178198
|
Who are all these rough looking people, hanging over me, itching me with their shaggy, grapevine arms? Like twisting, dangling down, painted, cloth Gargoyles on a quickly coming apart, dried up rope? It's always been the same old perch to view from. You wanted to know…
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17811212
|
Your mother is a great and dying bird. Once, she tended her grand feathered nest. Once, she preened.
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178166
|
Age Eight: Custody battle. Reassure your worried mother that it’s alright, this will give you something interesting to tell your children one day. Until now, life has been very vanilla.
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178100
|
"My Chi felt stimulated."
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1781149
|
I crave the confines of the convent
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178100
|
You are like gasoline on the fire of my desire–you send me higher and higher into paroxysms of earth-shaking erotic explosions. Remember–the “light” catfood is the kind in the turquoise bag.
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178166
|
They were all sitting naked in a sauna and drinking Diet Coke, with droopy ball sacks and sweat rolling over massive man titties and paunches. Yahweh sat on an upper bench, wearing dark goggles to protect his eyes from the brightness of his own still radi
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1781114
|
My spooky cat got out again. Under the deck she ran. Out came the hose that chased her about. Fur spiked, tail pointing, yowling, she hissed at me, and back in the house she pranced. It's been two days now. She slithers out for food after…
|
1781104
|
Jasmine as skeined skins… of liquid hers, by willow courts, the lychee's water wains: as apple-moats flush fawn in russet light, through cherry floats, the leopard-dots of dawn. Branch to branchlet green …
|
178054
|
My mother saw the Devil everywhere, even in my dance teacher, with his black leotards and chest hair like bean sprouts. "You're flamingos," he'd say in class when we balanced on one foot; when we lept into the air, "Now you're panthers!" I pictured him in a dark robe,…
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1780100
|
It’s been stored away in the cedar chest since my mother put it there in the early 60’s, well, 1962 to be exact. She was a careful woman, but over these many years the bow has flattened, and the wind-up parts have corroded some from non-use. Oh, the
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17801211
|
I walked to work back then...
|
178011
|
so I tighten hands with my castaway and say/you failed to impress in your folded peacock dress
|
178093
|
During what's called "Children's time," one day at church Sarah slides her left foot halfway out of her tiny ballet slipper to show Davie her toenails are painted the same soft pink as the inside of her shoe. "Look," she says. "My…
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178021
|
Judith was a bed wetter. Judith was a first-year college student and she was embarrassed that she wet the bed.
|
1780128
|
|
178021
|
Miriam forced herself to focus on the kitchen door and on putting one foot in front of the other.
“Is everything alright?” she heard Ada ask the family.
“Of course, everything is fine,” the woman said. “What could be wrong other than the impossible serv
|
178010
|
It's difficult to remember, much less write down, the hard times you thought were unforgettable when you have a full stomach. It's hard to remember that dirty little room you rented in that house, from a Bosnian landlord, on 27th avenue and Missouri. The…
|
178065
|
She used her right breast. Lifted it to her chin, aimed at the can, and shoved it down as hard as she could.
|
177965
|
You may think you've tasted envy, but yours was just a sour sip of wine at a civilized wine-tasting. Mine is bottom-shelf, well-brand gin in a biker bar with miss-the-urinal piss stains on the floor.
|
177952
|
The past operates with incredible gravity. Powerful, efficient, deceptive. Thin, sleek cords sent out by it attach themselves to your back, your legs, your buttocks, the back of your head. Resist. Walk. One leg after another. Easy does it, like a baby. Do
|
177965
|
the names / she carried (within)
|
177941
|
Sunday afternoon was the best. The kids drew straws for a chance to sit on the stool in the Kitchen with the broken armrest. I think mom thought it was an antique but it was just a piece of shit her dad picked up second hand.
|
1779136
|
I travel over your body with small feet,
reach your heart.
|
177956
|
in our teens as tough as the cold/we wore denim and flannel with our boots/kicking at whichever wind blew . . .
|
1779167
|
|
177962
|
Mark dressed the velvet red Stetson,
too big for his head,
like a dandy.
A six year old savior
with fringe on his pockets
flapping as he, the ‘Judas horse’
led me ’round back
|
177933
|
I remember mad strong words out of a teenager, fresh from the shower without a blouse: First! He will be my age, period! He will be the first to walk me to my room as my fear crashes to earth, final, considered.
And I will be the first to milk the w
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