Harpo was there with his wife. Harpo’s girlfriend came up behind the couch where I was sitting, and I ran my hand up her leg underneath her dress.

The supervisor, sensing the fear in me, pats my hand and says "Never you mind! This is normal in the tomato. Every few days we rile up, make sauce, and regrow again. Have you ever been in spaghetti sauce before?"

But Jake doesn't hear anything. He is pure, unfiltered, liquid rage. Jake kicks Rolex dude once, twice, five times in the ribs. On the last kick, there is a snapping sound.

Mayumi and her friends arrived at the beach. The sun was near setting for the night, and a few stars began an early peek in the twilit sky.

It was midnight. I was outside the cottage, digging another row of star-shaped holes for the shrubbery.

Every ten days, the Decadent Sisters assembled for dinner. Although raised together, they were each very different...

Mo Dean woke up sober. And tired. Tired of life, of soiled pants, rash, vomit, and whiskey sweat. Tired of holes in his pockets and blisters on his feet, of hanging signs asking for dimes and getting only pennies. And most of all, tired of the police.

I loved without marriage and the men loved without divorce and we loved a twenty-four-year-old eating and how gracious she shone over a tame bottle of beer.

the swarthy terror network

My father's cousin is Salem the Dead. Famed, an infant Lazarus of Libya, he was brought lifeless from the womb, yet awoke to the chill of a mortuary slab.

It turned out Eel’s brain corrects for imbalance, and he can only feel danger for a moment or two.

The service was a disaster. The Protestants bobbed up and down. They didn't know when to stand, when to sit. I

There are stories I will not tell, stories I shudder / to remember. You'll forgive me for withholding them from you. / You may, of course, not tell me everything about yourself either

It was my fault.

Remembering Ginsberg who howled through just about everybody's idea of the real weirdo poet