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When I was a boy and just out of seminary school, I went to a Doors concert and heard Jim Morrison sing his song ‘Soft Parade’ – it changed my life.
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They were once a crown,of some living stag -- not quite old,not quite young: now bone. Something at the cusp of its age. Here they stand, given by a loved friendon a place in my home; smelling, whenI get very close, of time. They are shaped like small…
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Last time I saw the American Dream was Tuesday, down at the Unemployment Office. He was looking pretty worn out, as if being unemployed for over a year was finally getting to him.
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“Paroxysms, well, what in the hell’s a paroxysm?”
“I think the better question is what kind of name is Gentry, Gentry?”
“Yes, that’s a better question. Do you really want to know? I was named after my grandfather, Ol’ Gentry Jones Filips III. They
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Lucy entered the open door next; she had been inside the cat litter house before: Brother Fran didn’t bother to cover turds he’d laid. He spoke of the outdoors: lizards he’d separated from their heads, world of work.
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They pumped him full of electricity and waited.
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My writing career began with sitting around the tree eating Christmas presents.
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Between the commercials, the local news is rampant with fusillade of bullets going raving mad, driven by some Machiavellian brainfuck, or bombshells smiling down with angels in black; emoticons of solid metal and pride. But you would put your faith in…
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I fancy myself a spy. Unofficial official of the H. O. A. Super secret free agent agent of the Glenwood Homeowner's Association. Even the board is unaware of the work I do in their name, without the faintest utterance of their name. Only the highest of the high, the…
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What was it about the aged and cookies? Here was another one that relished them. Sebastian's grandmother was a specialist. People on the outside thought she was a bird enthusiast. Grandma could be seen refilling the bird feeders at all hours. After the morning…
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This was not a good sign, comforting gestures from strangers were bad omens.
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Concrete coffeecake
drumbeat gyrate
Andy Rooney ran a meter.
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Better move ‘cause I hear them comin’ up the other side.
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The moon, a cataract cloaked in its charcoal fog, slowly seeps among the trees; night's unguent.Its glance is constant and white,its arc known. I watch its brow of bone with constant wonder.The long, slow funeral of America is taking its time; its…
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116111
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Miranda laughed. The cream of the retail industry laughed...
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The virgins smirk / //
We got medieval on their asses
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116120
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It's definitely not her pretty face that made him smile so quirkily when she returned in the evening.
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He peels the garlic while I stir the lentils; he chops the cilantro while I peel kale leaf from stem. Also, the rings. Also, no one is going anywhere.
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All greatest things are tokens of themselves: They need no tongues to say why they are so, To say why suns surpass historic gulfs Or why the rain sheds more tears than the snow: Yet man must strive to paint what falls beneath The glance…
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I caught a fragment of a charged argument as I passed them. The young man said, “Well, I am talking about love.” And the young woman with equal volume checkmated with, “Well, I am talking about money.” Though their lives were none of my business, this exc
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I was so high on the not knowing, I thought, you will love me for my confusion. And so I allowed myself to reach further inward than either of us felt comfortable. I imagined a delicious vanilla pudding at the core of my exploration, sweet and satisfying enough for me to…
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...she shouted, “Benny!” and slowed down as a hand-lettered signboard proclaiming zukeeny appals cidar came into view
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After it is over, I go out into the world, to the café. The flower sellers are setting up their booth outside the glass doors. Classical guitar over the speakers. A soft rain falling. Heads bowed, reading the news. Coffee, croissants, cappuccino. This g
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It leaves on a Saturday,suddenly, while you are raking leaves or taking out the trash.Those inevitable, boring things.You do not hear it go;it's been quiet before when it left certain rooms. It no longersleeps beside you, and you learnedlong ago that the bed was…
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Being burned with a branding iron really hurts. Everyone must have voted for the Forge because next thing I knew there was only God on TV
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Pictures of war correspondents from The Tribune, and colonial photographs in a fruit crate
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Butter me up, moon lover. Remember, I was once your warm and hot goddess of flowers, washed to shore with the others you may have forgotten. Now the issue of the earth gets nearer, and we can see each other once again, if only in our dreams.
Just be
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