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Time stole you from underneath the goldendock. Writhing there, slick as a flapping tongue;lips gored, red, whose gaping could embolden weak hands behind the blazing buck blade, long ago pierced in your summer quietus, beneath the soft shade of a tackle box, as the…
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men sitting on stoops
women earning the rent
by working as servants
in the rich folks yard
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154900
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Sacrificial vic bleeds out . . .
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154944
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Francesca is a sweet girl and everything, but her incessant doting on Paolo is best left private . . .
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154955
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How the hell do these 1/8 inch long red-eyed flying insects wind up in my kitchen anyway?
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154961
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Fucking buffalo, the curse of the writer.
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154956
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Wearing Land’s End clothes at life’s end
Driving around in circles in your Codgermobile
with 3 good hubcaps.
Who wouldn’t want to steal that?
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Steven was a hollow tree of a man — outwardly normal for a tired fortysomething, but empty inside. He lived alone in an old farmhouse that reeked of decomposition and Lysol, the previous tenant having left a dozen skinned raccoon carcasses in the attic.
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154900
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Yes, my old uncle liked roses. Grew them. He had a way of smelling a rose—after he smelled a rose, you are surprised the rose is still there.
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“There is no future in art,
you will not change lives
with flowery words.
Please don’t rock the boat”
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What follows is one of those moments, though to some people, it would seem a fantasy, perhaps a "Wizard of Oz" era tale.
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154942
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It was hard, in the crowded vacation house,
to make love as they would have alone.
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154822
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I am a human resource, batteries not included
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154855
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He’s more than a little pissed at all this eternal boulder rolling.
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1548119
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In the summer when it's light out later it's my nature to linger a couple of hours in the park after work, just standing around watching the Downtown Divas working the corner, offering themselves to each male driver who stops for the light and I always joke with them about…
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1548216
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She hasn't called me in days. Before calling her, I search my memory for something romantic to say. Shakespeare's Sonnet 73 says exactly what I'm thinking. But she doesn't need to hear it. She already knows, as all human efforts come to an end, my core energies are tapering…
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1548116
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Today’s new YouTube kitten;
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154811
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Five years ago—or maybe ten—I clipped an article containing a quote that has haunted and inspired me ever since, and tacked it to my wall. Describing the success of diplomats from nearly ninety nations to convene in Oslo, Norway, and agree on the wording
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154898
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The Chicago to Denver fast train clocked 90 MPH plus, but braked hard on the long curve through town, sparks ringing flanged wheels.
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154800
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That Orndoff! I'd like to shove that pipe of his up his arse.
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154833
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I didn’t see the little boy run up to Bandit until it was too late. The kid was about four and was excited to see such a big dog. He reached out his hand to pat Bandit’s head and Bandit lunged at him. The leash was wrenched from my hand, leaving a bloody
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This was looking down from what we know as The Grassy Knoll.
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154822
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Sitting on the couch when we got cable television, on that first day. Pressing buttons that sounded like the slap that your attention span would take as you made your way through the twenty, thirty, forty channels. As you grew older, the amount of channel
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154811
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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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154832
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Momma pointed out our paintings on the walls, the signs we had learned, but when Daddy saw our friends, their wheelchairs, braces on their legs, he left...
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154874
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It starts on the Fallopian Speedway
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The spirit smiled and held out his hand, the light in the room magnified and he brushed past the books and the thoughts still hanging in the small alcove, " You are ready now.
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Just beyond the corkscrew slide / the President of Egypt was bleeding to death
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It's a tunnel, you know, like the neck of a bottle, the tunnel the hair comes up, it's coming out soon, I'm an adolescent now, dammit.
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Detective-Sergeant Claude Mulvihill was seasick. He was in a New York City Harbor Police boat in the East River headed towards the George Washington Bridge. There was a good chop in the harbor, which became worse when the Police Boat reached the Battery.
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