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Love needs loathing like cold weather needs warm clothing. And all truths, untruths and part truths need a place to live when a mind gets too sardine-packed with information and cynicism...
Some say there was a time when the light was brighter, the ear
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Rothko and Stella loved the beach. To Jalapeno it was just one big litter box and for her it held no great appeal. She sprawled sunbathing on the dashboard lifting a lid occasionally to watch Lauren riding a wave. The dogs delirious with freedom romped and chased tight…
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They could cram Rob inside the trunk and then drop him somewhere in the dingles.
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If I floated about this coffee cafe,Like a spirit, just watching.In this room of framed fake memories,A room of ambient light, marketing to the masses,(It works; it gets 'em in the doors.)If I floated, I'd seeThese people sitting—eating, drinking, sipping, typing,…
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George was the biggest coward alive. But he was too afraid to admit it. But that therein was his cowardice. He couldn't face the truth. He couldn't face his weakness. It made him uncomfortable, the thought that he might need to change.
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The faces of the sun remain unaltered across the
seven day forecast.
I am sweat-glued to a poem, looking up at the
wall-mounted TV in a diner in the Valley
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“I’m making a dress,” she said, feeding the pages through the sewing machine.
He didn’t know how to answer. “Are those my books?”
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Mutiny is the last I remember.
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“Choices overwhelmed us,” Thomas continued, years later, “like waves crashing.”
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Clouds quickly appeared, in a perfect peach sky. Big, puffy clouds, moving together, formed the shape of a heart.
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After the ship stopped shaking, the angry flashes of warning lights discontinued, a few people could be heard sobbing or whispering prayers.
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The moon poured more/
light into the sky/
yet we kept on talking
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My uncle lived part-time in prison, in a cell with a blanket, pillow, and towel. The remainder of his days he lived in a small house on Prospect Street.
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—Jesus, a snoring cat. No wonder Alex put this cat outside.
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Everything needs context, otherwise reality would be nothing more than stardust with a spark.
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She remembered how cold it was in the factory that day. A few of the high windows stood open as usual, necessary for ventilation when the machines were all running, when the concrete floors were packed with the sweating bodies of warm human workers. The
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I clearly see the squirrels of
negativity all around me
or at least I sense that
they are there,
filling in the blank spaces
as I read down the page
prior to arriving at
the meaning of everything.
The greenness of figs
before they
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Gert sat in the car and wiped at the inside of the window while the defroster blasted at full strength. The shards and slivers of ice that networked across the windshield were just thick enough to hinder visibility. Bane wrenched the door open and shoved
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On shingle of seashells &
Bullet shells,
Ghosts drift along the shore
Of the Black Sea.
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David looked at the plaque sitting on top of his computer monitor and wondered if he’d even touched it since he’d placed it there. He picked it up and brushed off six years’ worth of dust into the wastebasket on top of the mustard-stained sandwich wrappe
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19. You never know yourself till you know the dust. 51. Treasures are the ligatures between our wants and love. 33. Truth is able to turn one's stomach.
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Times were tough back then. Just a few jobs. This was in the late thirties. It's the story of how Albert hooked up with Iris. Their unlikely meeting took place when they met out on the Highway 61 right-of-way just outside of Natchez, Mississippi, each trying to hitch…
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There's something wrong with my feet, if they are my feet at all.
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I'm living where I've always lived, in Georgia.
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Getting answers felt like it was not enough. Madam Mayweather wanted more. She wanted to hurt someone.
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some days you wake up/ to feel horror/ wrapped beneath your blanket./
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Route 346 is the way Pop drove to Troy long after everybody else took Route 2. Today Charlie and I drive in the opposite direction. Back then, Pop drove us to Troy on Route 346 on Sunday afternoons with the car windows…
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