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1I'VE BEEN looking though books of paintings and I've been thinking …
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The Plaza had a chess-board floor, green wood booths, and the lights stayed up. I might be combining a memory of Fitzie's in Binghamton. The Plaza felt like a preppy soda fountain with beer.
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Today’s new YouTube kitten;
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Fucking buffalo, the curse of the writer.
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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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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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Mayumi and Emi were in the spring’s together, center of the pool at shoulder depth. Emi stood in the center, letting its warm and clean air clear out her thoughts.
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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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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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My famous ‘Black Feminist Casserole’ was soon renamed ‘34C casserole’.
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"S- E- X -- ever heard of it?"
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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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This morning as I stepped out of the shower I was hit with a panicked fit in which it became urgent that I rid my flesh of each drop of water that burdened it. Not quite like the feeling of being…
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Bill Watterson isn't just the creator of the world's best comic strip. According to the book “Looking for Calvin and Hobbes,” a biography of the elusive and reclusive cartoonist, Watterson is also a world-class introvert. Watterson refuses to make…
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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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154163
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It is not unusual to see Göttwigg with his shirt on inside out.
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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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My grandmother is magnificently breasted in her floor-length nightgown.
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I like babies and little kids, more than some people but goddamn, children's laughter out of nowhere (in the night, when you're not expecting it) is creepy. I don't like slugs smeared like nightmare goo on my summer-bare feet, I could do without them in …
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Our beautiful currencies and stamps/
disappear into the digital vortex/
of accelerated appetites.
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The next moment is a convergence made from a single repeating sequence that disappears behind the voice that tells of it.
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“Eat more bugs,” said an old one.
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For the first time in her life
She felt she understood
The smell of a man.
The smell of white tulips,
The taste of a persimmon
In her mouth.
She remembered how married she felt
To him, in that moment. How close
To the earth, and ancien
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I rifled through the bedside table until I found dirty magazines
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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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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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1540108
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Unreasonable anger, Each hour prescribed
The house haunted
with good intentions,
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He had a simple dream: He wanted to become a star, and not one of those tv stars because those die, those die all the time, and before dying they usually become terrible shadows of their former selves, vile creatures who exploit their own former glory...
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