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On my second trip home from the University of Illinois down state in Urbana, it was during our break between semesters, I remember it was a particularly freezing cold and miserable January (1963.) I had a date with Lynda.
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It was the most prestigious cashier position in the entire state!
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“Because the day I fucked you I caught an infection and now I have it for life.”
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for Tracy ThornYou don't need a song about fixed stars, you needa reason to be glad stars are here. Themoon's always been around, but not always like the friend you want,until now. Don't throw it all away becauseyou are too sad to care. You've come into your own. Allthings…
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Words reach out of my mind for paradise. And come back with rocks.
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I have to find a way To evolve To become To grow into something else To become something else I have to find a way To let go Loosen my firm grasp Watch it all fall away Let myself fall away Drop this act This weight This mess of a life This mess I…
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There was a time when I washed my dishes with a stray cat who spoke French. I won't go into all the details of what led the bilingual feline into my kitchen, or how he came to take the plunge into an abyss of soap and grease, cheese-encrusted plates, and…
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One day, Dasha confessed to Igor that she had an incurable illness: Purple emptiness.
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Ben shook his head in disbelief: Was this some theatrical soothsayer trick of Ida’s?
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Although I'm twenty years older than her, my girlfriend has called me "jailbait" for the past year and a half because she says the only way to stop having to share me is to kill my wife..
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He will spread peace like wet blood on a sheet.
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She was the middle child, tall and lank, red haired and strong, in a girl kind of way. A girl forced to cope with something tough and objectionable. She was the care giver to her younger brother, making sure he got out of bed and ready for school. She did
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her knife cleaves a single red hair
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What if she doesn't take me seriously? My sweaty testimony wedged tight behind the tragic I used to think was honest? What if, right? What if . . . Isolation Real men feel that, right? They have …
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Since I have never found any mention of children that you may have had in your writings, I've been a little reluctant to tell you this story. It may be a touchy subject for you...I don't know. It's a lot of conjecture on my part, but there's one indispu
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Zal’s first day on the job they had 16 customers. They took turns crying, “Bring out your dead!”
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They pull up to the curbside and he jumps out
to shake the hands in that familiar men’s
grasp/shake they do when saluting each other.
If that isn’t his daughter it should be, the one
sitting in his car, with her door wide open.
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Defenestration - the act of throwing someone out of a window.
I went to Prague recently to visit my family’s castle, which is called Krivoklat. I’m not even going to attempt to explain to you how to pronounce that. It’s outside Prague, about an hour t
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In the neon light and barroom shadows,
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Late in the morning, standing in line, clutching a bag of Meow Mix, I listen to the woman waiting behind me. She's having a cell phone conversation about the Treasures of Ancient Egypt exhibit. It‘s in New Orleans, she says, and the kids liked the mummy. I slide…
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She rubs her head into mine...
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Michael lay on his back and counted his breaths, measuring their depth of inhalation and release.
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Small wonders, her worthless,priceless treasures fortify the wallswhile hoarded trinkets protect her like armor against memoriesof a desperate past.
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Something is clearly wrong with them and we're supposed to socialize them.
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I saw an ocean drained and filled / at the flats of Saemangeum.
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Paul and Mary Jo lived in an apartment at the top of a long, dark flight of stairs that were so high, I remember as if it were yesterday thinking, the night she pushed him down the stairs, he would surely be dead by the time he hit the landing at the…
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Bipolar. Schizophrenic. Alcoholic.
Addicted. Abused. A reader?
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The woman was dancing, holding her bottle in the air as she slowly turned around, blocking the way to the exit. “I asked Miss Pansy Blossom if she would wing a reel,” she sang.
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I did as I was told, running barefoot down the bare wooden stairs
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Her Facebook profile was bursting with persistent prenatal posturing. She adored the adoration. And now Mrs. Davison’s pregnancy was almost over. This was her big, overblown, look-at-me-everyone, mind boggling finish!
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