“What's a slut?”

a soft wooden clatter, wind-battered reeds/bound to the banks of ditches rank,/ill-purposed waters slide into low swamps/whose waters into rivers seep and crawl.

Sharon called me “Wolfie” (very sweet!) and I distinctly heard her gasp, “Jesus!” when I entered her the first time on my dad’s ski boat, while you and Rick DeMille came swimming up behind us, yelling out my name: “Pharaoh … Pharaoh.” We

Dawn is a grey mass, what is left of the night's chill slips between my t-shirt and belly skin. Somewhere else you once wrote that being loved when you don't love in return equals rape.

"I still believe in love."--John Lennon It was war of the ancient order come to the farthest shore at last. No one leaves this world without an arrow through his heart. Why should I lie to you now? We all fight the truth in…

Sometimes the dirt just stays dirt

#whateverhappenedto #beforesex #whateverhappenedto #duringsex #whateverhappenedto #aftersex #nevertrust[written in August 2009]

White, hot pain shot runs from her through the wires, ending at the laptop, leaving a background buzz in her head.

The strangers say hi at the Piggly Wiggly grocery stores, compliment my gold necklace, tell me I'm as beautiful as a Southern Belle, ask where I got my Gucci shoes. “Wow, New…

I've been chasing something that cannot be caught.

i waited for the moon last night for hoursfell asleep with the record player on and dreamedof rain running downgutters of sea glass housesthe sun nudged me awakeand she served me toasthe's not serious,she saidhe's half baked,full of…

Here’s a picture of you Lit up by the internal light Of the moon. It was a Super moon that night And the story of God Had not been told And we had to wait a good Long time to hear it out in the cold And I was the King of Fishers

No one would have picked me out of a crowd as the morbid one, but it was true that thoughts of easy exits floated through my consciousness regularly. I did my research—the easy methods, painless, guaranteed methods—and felt prepared to do, well, w

If you find a lone, sad honeybee, buy a Habitrail cage and make it your new pet.

and springs its ready-made claws into action and takes a soppy chance that things will probably go its feline way today. But you, my friend, must you always throw the testing switch to high voltage on me? Yeah I get that the history teachers…