Each day, I lose more words-/ nouns and verbs- but especially// proper names. People and places

My friend and I were once walking the aisles of a supermarket because we decided we were going to have roasted duck. We didn’t know how to cook, but as the old Filipino reds used to say: If not now, when? If we don’t learn how to cook now, as in NOW, then

There aren’t requirements, only expectations. I’m writing this, because, at the time it happened it seemed strange to me. People might think I’m writing because now, it makes sense, right? It doesn’t, I’ll tell you that much. I’ll also tell you what i

only thoughts lost in lonely trails of red

What are our reigning philosophies today, what dominant schools inform and lead our intellectual efforts, inspire our blissful reveries, inflame our breathless humanity?

It was the losers’ bar in my neighborhood.

Pascal would let something slip now and then. He was sharp and spoke excellent English, with a beautiful Spanish accent. He corrected speech among the guys, but he exercised his lessons in grammar with an eloquence that fascinated all of us, not letting a

Like the willow she stands alone, swaying.

Koo ate the sad, bitter pills just so she wouldn’t have to try and make small talk about La Donna’s deformed, retarded kid.

As the light changed and exhaustion set in, Suzy and Molly batted back and forth one more knock knock joke to avoid going home.

Pots of wine crowding the forehead until irrational thought crowds out the stubborn lizard of sanity and, God knows, my elegance. What else is left? As the young seeks change, so will I. Seeks the carmine lip, so the white bud seeking God, the unchanged

son a superfly/alligator shoe clad/networking man/working a beeper and flip phone/twisting blueberry spliffs/on ma's porch

A pig weighing nearly 300 pounds was discovered in the back of a wrecked car in Youngstown, Ohio. The car, a Nissan Cube, was totaled, but Penelope the pig was unscathed. The car, which belongs to Wendy Thrasher, Penelope's owner, was apparently stolen

Pinesatz is standing again. He and Marie seem unaware of time, unaware that Louane is watching them, unaware of waiting for Wendy with the car. Every glance is a hook. Every gleam is a glance. Every stanza is a room. She vies for it.

Everybody knew the buildings were trying to kill us.