1194 1 0
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I remember a time when Calvin, my husband, was like Winnie the Pooh and I was a jar of fine Provençal honey. No amount of my sweetness could satisfy his craving for me. He would spread me on his toast with butter at breakfast and mix me with peanut butter
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119400
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When not enough is left to utterThe syllables it takes to say,Goodbye--Disassembled and developed,Laid upon the ground,Like the girded gridlockOn your smog befitted brow...Goodbye.And what if I said, hello?What if I said, good day?Would it change your sunken bodyAnd repair…
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119455
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The boy stared out his window, noting the suns slow and eventual passing behind the distant mountains. He saw his face reflected in the window pane and turned away. His shadow loomed…
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119411
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Joseph and his little brother, Kevin, were there again. Kevin was too small to understand what had happened yet. He would usually just go off, running around the statues and playing with the wreaths; the last time they'd visited he climbed a tree and broke one of the…
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119442
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I sense that I may have won a few hearts and minds with my stirring peroration. "Can I get anybody a Republican Party beer koozie to take home?"
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119454
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I don’t even want to think about Aethra shtupping Posiden and Aegeus
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119442
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119432
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For the camera
she smiles
otherwise not
and
only when she is
standing beside him
But for the camera?
for the crowd
for posterity
yes
For their children
for the future?
yes, again yes
a thousand times
until her face
be
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119465
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I heard them praying to some god
none of us had ever heard of.
I'm glad I went to the funeral
and still have the yellow rose that I
did not throw into his grave.
At some point
you have to stop nibbling
from the moldy cake.
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1194106
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Rainy eyes fall fast somewhere
close to me
Riding the wind like lust
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119422
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mind heart soul will blood sweat tears muscle, and bone,/and then always something else—not more, just else . . .
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119444
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I may have gone
A little soft in the brain
But I swear I still see it
The angel closes the rain
Even God has to refrain
From causing us pain
When the angel closes the rain
So the angel closes the rain
At the end of time
The angel mus
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119421
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I think she later thought about that. Just as she loved her son, I loved my mother. Just as my dad loved her, so the same kind of protective honoring love existed. Right or wrong, it was there, the elephant in the room.
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119320
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2. Travel To Somewhere Fascinating, Even In Your Own Back Yard!
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11931413
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Let me say these words now
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1193113
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She called for land usage to fulfill a social function, to provide an affordable and sustainable way of life for all.
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1193120
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Your son is six feet tall in the sixth grade. By his sophomore year of high school, he outweighs you by a hundred pounds. He's been offered four football scholarships and one for a sport he's never played. Every morning his mother, your ex ex-wife, makes his breakfast of a…
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119374
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Not all ideas are bad, just mine.
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119398
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This is what happens when a writer falls in love...
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119322
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You are rounded just the way the mountain is, out the window. The sun sets on both of you now. Three of you, I should say: the mountain, and you, and little Frank, who is currently batting my ear because he doesn't want to be named Frank but it's for your dead father,…
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119321
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Everyone is tromping around in work boots like an army of happy gardeners. The park is smiling from all this attention, from the sound of kids who think work is play. It's not even sunny but we don't mind. I know you don't. Grey days are just as good. They've…
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119342
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I remember this vivid dream I had once. Maybe you were in it? I’m not sure. There was a gang of spitting men outside this bar, standing beside a whole row of gleaming motorcycles, with tons of chrome, and I remember my dreams were their feathers. They
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119300
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It’s the middle-aged jazz musician who tends to get lost in the shuffle; no longer news, and not ready for the marble statue-treatment.
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119374
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NO ONE CAN BE A BASTARD FOREVER
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119353
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Somewhere between the bleating of sheep
And the laying of eggs
Comes the licking of frosting
And the eating of the cake
We’re not young enough
To know everything anymore
And you may think there’s no rush
But I know this
There’s a limit t
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119333
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we ran that afternoon/across Bayshore lanes/into green blooming fields, beyond all those
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119321
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It was night. It was Massachusetts. It was an interview in a snowstorm
that Detective Vivian Diaz wished would go away.
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119362
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purely fun,
humane, scientific,
old time religious
experimentation
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11931410
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119200
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Character & Fitness, the opening chapter to my novel, "Death of the Dying City."
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