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woke up to the sound of a diesel
looked out the window to see i’m not home
outta bed to see if you had called
not a damn thing on my phone
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1294127
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This liberated you/
to grind me hard/
on the dance floor
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129400
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Sora collapsed on the wall to Azure’s squeals. She felt her arm lifted up and placed around Azure’s shoulder.
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129455
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There was a certain romanticism in it, the salty old man sidling up to me at a bar, rhapsodizing in a slurred stream of conscious about the state of the world, the country, the state of his own heart. He didn't have an eye patch nor beard, nor was he…
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129411
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of Jim Beam when I was maybe fifteen. Or anyway old enough to admire the lesson.
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129487
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129432
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How long have you been waiting for me? How long?
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129442
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Anatoly Gringovitch was listening to the dress rehearsal of Hausenstockmann’s Constellations at Auditorium Rainier III in Monte Carlo.
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129411
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King's splendid stronghold Pressing down the earth below Broken by the grass
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129453
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The skinny one was kinda cute. He had this little mole over the left corner of his mouth that she just wanted to suck. She kept watching it go up and down as he talked, the way his full lips kept spreading and coming together. She really wanted to kiss…
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129444
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He keeps saying it,
babbles the term like he knows what it means
and we wince and interject with mama,
mama,
mama,
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129471
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Things don't always go to plan. Gem knew what people would have said back then, of course. She wasn't stupid.
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129442
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How hard it is to pretend to be someone else. Alone, together, in the silence... I thought about how you must really like me to act quite like that. I wanted to hold your hand and read the unsent love letters.
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129442
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...it's about female needs, Rex.
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129465
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Resting bitch face strikes again.
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129450
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Take my hand. Take my hand and we will sail through the atmosphere leaving trails of rainbow speckled life written in musical notes behind us. We can go anywhere you want, whenever you wish. The moon in 1974. I hear the earth looks gorgeous during the seventies.…
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129487
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I imagine you in the States,
pushing stacks of work papers and our memories
to the side, sense your enjoyment that
you won’t see the worry of your
behavior reflected in my eyes again.
That you can buy and bang and be
whomever you want,
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129472
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My vagina invites you to a party
Whenever your time frees up
Or now,
Now would be better
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129462
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You master their secrets. Mirror adjusters... Air conditioning knobs... Fuel door releases... Changing their satellites to Mojo Nixon. But you never really know them.
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1294129
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I was at the doctor's office, having my blood drawn. I was talking to the medical assistant. She was tying off my arm to tap my vein. She was almost 8 months pregnant with a girl, though her belly stuck out straight in front of her enough to be told she was having a boy.…
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1294136
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129465
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He refuses to answer his phone, preferring the safe medium of email or his answering machine. He only eats pre-cooked, pre-packaged food, only drinks bottled waters, sodas and juices. He has cable, but only watches late-night infomercials and shopping cha
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129463
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SapphicsSlumber comes too late to scare awakening; I know, before, there was a life to bind me. I cross the streets instead and watch the rainfall Murmur without ears. It can know no sound but seems…
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129387
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First he wrote it in wet cement at the intersection:
“Tad Loves Kimberley,”
with a big heart around it.
He was real proud, you could see.
But then later on that year, the graffiti began
appearing everywhere, on all the store walls:
“Kimberle
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129388
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129361
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I’m trying to get this said, this piece of fact. If I am a person who can own something, then that something that I own is not me, not me as a person. I do not own my foot, my foot is my own. It’s like a whatsit, a semantic distinction I’m trying to
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12931210
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We can’t be sure. Perhaps it is/
some slight exaggeration of one/
or several elements that steals our breath.
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129311
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In sleep their bodies drift between the sheets until they find each other.
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1293158
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I paid the doctor / You paid the doctor
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129365
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This writers' conference (sponsored by VQR, which had run its banner ad atop the Fictionaut home page in the summer of 2014, which begins to explain both my attendance and this essay) revealed itself as an apt subject . . .
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