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Reading magazines this week, I learned that:Sally Field dislikes gefilte fish.(Vanity Fair, 3/16)Pornhub, an explicit-video-sharing site, gets 2.4 million visitors per HOUR. (Time, 4.11.16)There are 641 million obese people in the world today. (Time,…
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The house where my brother lived up in the hills above Hollywood, looked like any other suburban house on any normal street Anywhere USA, except that once you got inside the house — spread out at your feet was a panoramic view over a canyon that was act
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Frank was about to take the first bite of a chicken salad sandwich.
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Looking down you wonder, when did I eat pineapple? and Am I really this awesome or am I a facsimile of something that really sucks, even if it's that 'it's so bad it's good' kind of thing? Nope, it's just bad.
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Near dusk today a car backfired on the street beneath my office window
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Tell people of substance the truth.
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Can we ever truly know reality? I don’t think so. But fly in comfort my friend. Lean back and enjoy the thrust of those engines.
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She remembers the days when she could have purchased every card in the store and found the words to fill them all.
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She's speaking again, this time in whispers. Her head is shrinking in on itself. If there is a way to save her I'm not aware of it.
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They sit across from each other and she smiles as if they were in a normal place.
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Let me say these words now
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I’m starting to feel more interested in my savings account.
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"Shouldn’t I be able to easily get my arms around nothing?”
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1Paradise Lost is cast into the lake of fire. Satan tells John Milton to rewrite it in 140 characters or fewer.2Filippo Marinetti languishes in a dismal rural idyll. His hand, possessed, scrawls euphonic odes to the moon with a quill.3Henri Michaux floats through the…
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Clatters and clatters ensued, and the splash destroyed all denial.
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Robbie’s wrists itched hard, the cord was sunk in so tight his hands were bordering now on blue, now purple. Too late to matter.
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The world is a mighty funny place. It spins wildly and we are held down by its strong ghostly gravity. We're still able to communicate with one another over morning coffee and delicious cake donuts dipped in chocolate. Some of us used to keep…
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Diane couldn’t shake her compunction. Though eight and a half months had passed, nothing felt right anymore. Their conversation played out in her dreams, and stilled her during everyday errands.
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You are in a car speeding through Dublin towards the West year after year the journey uncoils past the same landmarks Kilmainham Jail strapped to a chair bullet to the brain on by the Rowntree Mackintosh factory where the black and yellow and orange and r
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Before you tripped on the third rail, you were like any other: coat a shard of midnight-blue, eyes filled with gratitude but for nothing. You were a lost coyote on a snowy hill. With sad magnificence you wandered, terrorizing passengers who secretly wished to pat your…
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I'm writing our initials in black sharpie on the tunnel wall. There's already people who have come before me, hundreds of pairs of Qs and As and hearts in the middle, through a small hole in the brick I can hear the French accents, spinning through, a reminder that I am…
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Hail the yellow cab the yellow one will do just fine as second condiment to the sun
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It's called the Knee Defender. But I prefer to think of it as the Schmuck Identifier.
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Years later Polyphemus still remembers the wine-soaked taste of Odysseus’s men. The barley and garlic-flavored Greeks. Their flesh a fibrous, blood-hued hummus. Their crunched bones releasing sweet marrow.
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My hillbilly’s got a hole in it
And I think I’m gonna die
I swear you can see right through him
Got a big hole in his side
I think I pulled the trigger
On the truth gun at my side
Then it just got bigger
It started getting wide
He tried
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The elephant was breakable and I know that my grandmother held her breath every time I went near it, and I was repeatedly cautioned that it was not to be played with only admired. She taught me in her own way, respect for it. She may have commented on the green with a bit…
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Star-eaterHere lies the star-eater.Tilting on the ancient wheelof summer-glaze-breath,you speak the oceans. Fire's the mealfor you, the star-eater. You defy death,and out of your mouth, a universe openspouring forth, as fleet as the starslight on your tongue. Space…
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Just like real life before poundsigns.
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