Sometimes the beauty you make wants you to say, aaahhh, and let it go. There are a lot of things floating around, so it's no wonder that some things get sadly lost, like minds,like people, like feelings. It doesn't make anything spin any less. That's what…

Apocalyptica 1. the portent holds you while you try for solace in the bath anticipating the opened mouth the one that cannot close after and there is a knotting inside of joints and threads poised so delicately in the waiting …

I’d like to thank no one. But especially my first love in life For putting me through hell With all her lies and eternal sweetness Toward all her many leading men While maintaining she was virgin Until she met me. What was the point? Ah, y

A decade, at minimum, was how long their notes had transpired.Still, they all knew how it would end.

He almost died, but hasn’t been this much alive ever.

Reverend Peter Roman could stand it no more. He stopped his speech. He felt a fire burning through him, a hatred for humanity and all the weaknesses of beings not perfect before God. He stood a long while, staring at the congregation. Then, he slowly spok

Now, as we sat on lawn chairs / on the balcony to watch the meteor shower

My sweet granny was like Exhibit A that I was adopted. I mean, how can anyone be sure?

Ben gagged after shot-gunning the scotch. He hiccupped and it came back up through his nose. He grabbed a napkin and caught most of a shot and a half of Whyte & MacKay as it poured out his nose.

My supper consisted of no cheese My marriage consisted of no violin

Last night I decided to go through my bag of wind and sort things out. I'm a hoarder, and wind is no exception. I collect winds. I found two siroccos, five simooms, three foehns, eight Chinooks, ninety gales, thirty zephyrs, two nor'westers, a monsoon, a…

I had a dream about you once. I don't know if I told you about it already or not. (If I did, I apologize.) I'm never quite sure who you're writing about in some of your stories (maybe a composite of everyone?) but I did hold you one more time. In my dream

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

My parrot Poe freezes when a crow soars outside the window the same way I do when you approach my door. You come knocking late at night. What do you want this time? I yell. To come in you say, please. Go the fuck away, I respond but you keep…

No, your clever costume won’t protect you.