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This is a fairy tale. There is a princess who is not a princess but we will call her a princess because every fairy tale has a princess. Her name is Tanya. She's the daughter of a mechanic and a housewife. She has two brothers and two sisters. She is the middle…
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Elvis at a Starbucks. Some graphic words.
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and all the trees are holding/their limbs up in prayer/and rain is mating with soil
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In the LOL playground environment of Facebook, one man's world is turned upside down when a new female friend suddenly blocks him from any further communication.From Chap.1: "I kept thinking there was something familiar about you, and now I remember."
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There's no surcease from heat, no "cool of the evening," like the songs say about summer in the South. Those songwriters sat under fans in the Brill Building in downtown Manhattan.
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Rendine Philips polishes his courage and enters the fray. Not virtual reality, more reality virtuous. He feels the pull and the push. Electricity pulses resistance.
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TRAVELING NORTH Though you are dead now. Though I walk covered in dust through this strip mall in Iowa. I remember the collection of tendencies that led me here. The flat landscape. The blazing heat of cornfields. The landscape and body are one…
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Christmas is here and there's work to do.
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keep your fiberwigs in check
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I hear all the static in her head, all the fuzzy threads from half a mile away. She hates dirt. She hates the couples who come in and talk stupid lies at each other. It's so simple with her. I ask what she likes. The feeling of soft wool on her bare nippl
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I would roll my eyes, give one word replies or a smiley face.
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He and I are still and somber at the kitchen table. We’re both wearing black and stare at each other through blood-shot eyes. The children’s thumps echo on the ceiling above. I think about the other family’s children.
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Novelist E.M. Forster said of Auden "Because he once wrote 'We must love one another or die' he can command me to follow him."
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...she lifts one shell, sips a little, then swallows the creature whole.
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I watched myself tilt my head and coyly smile in the bottom right corner of the chat window-the two off-kilter lamps in the room were casting an asymmetrical shadow over half my face.
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‘I love you' said the man at the book signing.
He was one of the last. The shop was closing. The staff were starting to turn off the lights. She was sitting in the glow of a table lamp with her latest novel in stacks around her.
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When I was young I used to carry a butcher knife to bed. My grandmother placed it in my small hands before tucking me in.
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I peeled his tongue, word by contemptuous word, until he had nothing left but a scrappy shred of muscle flapping in his empty head...
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The weight of my heart dragged me in dangerous directions.
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Yahweh’s a betting deity, as bad as Lucifer at times. If you don’t believe me, look at the duck-billed platypus. Yahweh lost that time. So did the duck, but that’s another story.
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Garage-sale variety olive-green corduroy, elbow patches, hems too short. His jacket pocket produced answers one afternoon like strips of paper from cracked fortune cookies.
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I should have created a first-date questionnaire heartaches ago.
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My handwriting, slow in coming over many years, is good for lists, but I don't want to read sentences or write in it. Amber is on a list I wrote of things I want to remember of Russia: Rasputin's death and Peter the Great (6'7”). One of my lists I read as a poem in…
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We met an old friend and his old dog. We went off leash on the lush Buffalo grass. He and I—this old friend, I mean—talked mostly of divorce, something we shared between us.
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After like forever I remembered Seth was there, too. He was still on the levee's edge, but had drawn his legs up and crossed them, Indian-style. All of a sudden he was laughing.
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You should really see my father's bunions. They are as obnoxious as fuchsia bowling bowls.
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"And I listened, too, sitting at the table with him with my palms on my chin and my fingers on my face ‘cause I love listening to my man talking about why he loves me."
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A cat terrorizes a small family. They fight back.
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Closing my eyes, I try to breathe it all in, absorb the divine presence that is supposed to be here. Faith by osmosis. I guess it doesn’t work that way.
God has to be here. Why else would these people be here? Why else would the congregation return w
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