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Dear Patricia, You look marvelous. You seem marvelous. You've added wonder to Oprah's life and that's no small feat. But, here's the thing. I was working on this short story about a relative trying to get in touch with O, one of thousands, except, this one, well this one…
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146275
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This late November day there are too many leaves filling the yard.
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146263
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My father seems anxious about my gender orientation. I grew up looking like a boy, acting like a boy. He bought dresses and girly stuff for me but he avoided making an issue of it until recently.
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146255
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While watching the ever-present crowds
passing by on my insides, I noticed,
by accident, a man smiling
who might have been me, not sure.
Maybe I’m eating soap
for the first time, because I am
either frothing or foaming
at the mouth.
An
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146266
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And here’s a picture of you
at the end of the line
to the great toilet of
fiction, waiting to
relieve yourself, quick
before the poetry gets to you.
Or worse, the actual
poets.
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146244
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My father died. I took his clothes.
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146210
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“I'll have the Ribeye cooked medium rare,” says Bill, who looks over at Julia, blonde hair and disarming smile, and he thinks that she's not bad for a blind date. He doesn't like the way she butters her roll, however, and it agitates him that she spreads…
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146273
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At last, we learn if Blow has the cojones to fight.
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146200
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Ayane took another look of the area and it was large warehouse. A loud thud vibrated outside.
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146253
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“There is a fine line between love and hatred.” This was what his closest friend, Bob Sanders, had said to him many years ago. And it had finally and irrevocably proven to be so.
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146174
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these tender girls tears recent / with stained souls, brides of dead, / cadaverous Erebus; unguarded ladder / long the down going…came Anticlea then
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146152
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Have you ever seen a body of words give birth to a paragraph? I won't lie. It's a little gross. But quite moving. First there is the biology of reproduction. A blackbird living in an electric guitar, for instance, and its inexplicable urge to mate with an elephant.…
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146165
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When I slip through the seams I return to the same place.
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146198
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Dressed as an English professor on Halloween
I escape the red devil and run downtown.
I go to the Art Car hangar
I dance, I swing my golden brown briefcase
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14611510
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in which a man who is bored with years of retirement poses a threat to himself and others
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146121
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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."
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146120
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I can’t deny you’re beautiful, though it’s unsure how many of your defects are fudged by my myopia.
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146111
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Baby Teak can access Wikipedia by rubbing two xylophone mallets together.
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146176
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in a willow garden lush shade/drapes dark the young woman's small house/with the lone window, the white door . . .
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1461115
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Among the raindrops/
occasional plopping snowflakes.
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1460116
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Jane knew what to do
when she heard murmurs in the ceiling,
knew what to do when she struck out on the moor.
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146021
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In the ’70′s, Bigfoot was romantically linked with Farrah Fawcett, spotted in an Arkansas 7-11 with Elvis, and tabbed the front-runner to be Secretary of the Interior had Gerald Ford defeated Jimmy Carter.
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146020
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Ruth carries always a small bottle of nitroglycerin; and tissues, wads of tissues; two Tums (for calcium, she tells me)...
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146021
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I don't know what I'd expected from the week of mourning after my mother died but I sure hadn't pictured this marathon cocktail party. Our house is packed with people, food, booze and borrowed chairs. People I haven't seen in years keep turning up with casseroles.I'm…
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146054
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. . . how a body calls
in the dark. . .
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146086
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At some point we all reach the end point/
of something. Something important/
if only to our fragile self esteem.
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146021
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But behind the shops (and the many pubs), at the back of the narrow cottage fronts which line the wynds are secret courtyards, surprising gardens and more light than ever imagined.
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146040
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There are songs I know to not listen to when I am alone.
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146075
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146083
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goes on and on. Like it's a sad mad season on Mars, well it isn't, is it? Sometimes I have towonder whatever happenedto us, to make us forget how well we already know how tosing as good as any larks do? I have never wantedto drown, but I've…
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