I’m not ready for football. I’m not ready for it, but I live in a southern town that worships at its altar more devoutly than those suicidal beauties in James Wright’s great poem.

So where does that leave me, Roscoe Loomis wondered, dismounting his silver, aluminum steed in his sweat-soaked, spandex outfit, and, clearing the saliva from his beard he walked over, checked and smiled, learning that the bike track's timing unit showed it was Roscoe's…

The line weights are spot on/ and the snap of lines is textbook/ for a discipline that died with AutoCad

"You're no good at sex, no good at drugs and, god knows, no good at rock and roll."

Everything is bound to change like / a damsel to the tracks.

Of flowers there Are none In June No sun Upon my cheek The gentle breeze Stirs me not The smiles They cloud my vision Birds they Sing their songs But I hear Them not When tears Rain down My heaven.

The young boy woke to the sound of laughter. He blinked himself out of deep sleep and allowed…

He stood in front of her. They stood eye to eye. "You aren't supposed to look me in the eye. If I were anyone else you would be smacked down on the ground right now. Treat me as you would a lover, your master."

We’d told her that Kasey waitressed. We talked about it a lot, trying to figure something out. I wanted to be honest with her. Kasey said she was too young to understand. I said that was why honesty wouldn’t hurt anything. Kasey said what about later.

Removing the deeply embedded jack-blade frommy naked side, like any slicked-upsplinter, was just a bit jarring on the first bite, on first try, I must admit. I freelydo so now to your frozen-over faces. You made your…

‘what’s the hassle kiddo, chopping meat is fun, come here and listen to the music of the chop, the sound of steel ripping through air, slicing through flesh and hitting wood, poetry I say’.

I experience a presence when walking through the forest . . .

We’re going to talk about our future like the Rick Dees Weekly Top 40. Like there are 40 great songs this week about our future.

"Possible candidates for reading to a crowd" the subject line of the email to myself read. You see, writing can be hard - or writing can be easy. But writing for a crowd you'll see is something else entirely.

Rises monstrous out of the Baltoro GlacierPlaying poker with oxygen levelsPlays leap frog with embolisms.Malice and vanity join forces somurder guns the air even beforethe Death Zone. Down suits, bold and cockyregisters the climber's ambitions. The Serac , a…