Did they do it in pairs or all at the same time?

One evening I came home late from work to find my wife drinking white Zinfandel by the fireplace in the living room and reading Wallace Stevens poems out loud to the dog, curled at her feet.

“And what kind of man would prefer all these dusty old books to my physical form? Who would memorize archaic incantations, when he could be whispering in my ear? Why search for the ancient splendors of metaphor, when one could be searching for the ...

Johnny and Dee Dee Ramone crack open an Old Bushmill’s and offer John Huston a pull.

Because we cannot know, we keep walking, keep getting up each morning, feeding the cat, drinking coffee. Because we cannot know I'm drinking coffee that morning in Thailand, not on the beach but just off, because there is only one spot where you can get real coffee,…

They waited not a moment longer than was necessary But moved right in and Began their loathsome ch

alright, alright but not so much of a friendly little cigar-chomping companion-like a friendly ghost! That sweeping hair of longed for sleeping only awaits you once you've drowned too …

When I look at the picture on my refrigerator, I always think the same thing: "Hitler was a baby once too, look how well he turned out."

Little things that kept me going are no longer doing the trick, and venting to someone eventually drives them away. People around you know what is going on, but there is little they can do. They stay away at more than an arms length and you understand. Tr

The first burned slowly in the distance. I built a small fire to keep warm. Snow covered the area as far as the eye could see. The sun burned bright in the sky above and the mountains disappeared onto the horizon. My gear had some wear and tear from t

Their tongues were dry, her milk was gone, and the last bit of water in the plastic jug had evaporated.

Mark Reep is that stepbrother you had a thing for, the one who turned you onto Steve Vai, Stoli.

Of course they (the cof­fee and cream) were lovers, chem­i­cally made for one another, warmly explor­ing their part­ner's par­ti­cles with the pas­sion of a first kiss.

I remember the first time I met the virgin, Terry (not Mary.) She was in the back seat of an old Plymouth convertible with its top down, jam-packed with raucous high school girls vying to see which one of them could be the most loud and obnoxious, and w

The drone of radio seeps into the car’s back seat… I hear only bits and pieces of information –