Let's walk through this park. We can talk until dark. You have the look of a wolf. I'm not stupid, Jack. I'm a lamb, you'll see, once you get to know me. That tat is fierce and your leathers tight black. My ink is old and black suits me, I'm told. …

There is an emotion out there I can feel it already in me swimming around in my blood like a big hot postulation. Like a big hot hand of light.

The last time I saw Jackson, I didn’t write down the set list. This time I didn’t write down the set list, either.

The next time I see you, I’m going to pretend you’re a stranger, and that I’m meeting you for the first time.

The old man had always known things, was feared and revered up and down the valley for knowing things. I’d heard the stories since the day I was born.

It is another evening of ordinary sand. The moon worms, all mellow and white, glow shine over the laminated floor. Shay's bladder is full, and protesting with a thump of ache. Shay holds on nervously.Last time she pissed tiny silver fish that roiled in the froth of her…

Albertine had never loved Agnés. Oh! She had liked her very much. Especially her wit, the skin at the nape of her neck, even the two freckles on her arse that would bloom when licked.

Maintaining a healthy love life requires effort and professional advice, and Your Love Life columnist would be happy to assist you.

It is a small life, circumscribed/ by debt and income, age and infirmity./ The Hidden Hand thrusts its middle finger/ high.

My friend once told me about this island of trash in the Pacific. He said that if you threw a piece of trash in any body of water it would find its way there somehow.

I am a scavenger. I sit on the telephone wire, a ravenous vulture watching a man and a woman arguing across the street. The clouds remind me of ashy marshmallows I found in a fire pit yesterday. The woman starts violently shoving the man; he stumbles…

Frowning, loosening a purple tie, Tony pushed through the golden revolving doors of a skyscraper. He drifted into the crowded midtown street as if in a daze. He was roused to his senses as his cell phone sent out the melody of his wedding song.

Somewhere, a mathematician is going mad in a box that decreases in size at the same speed it takes the mathematician to find a way to get out. At least he’ll die with an epiphany, which is more than we can say for you.

The strange bones of language wander the room.

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