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I returned to Minnesota from Montreal a week ago to realize that my sweetheart in Manhattan had hired a Ukrainian escort.
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I heard a story once that said we are all entitled to seven good years. No, wait, that is not exactly what it said. Rather, it was more plaintive and inquiring. The feeling that song gave was more one of asking the question: Wasn’t I supposed to get sev
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was only a small enough matter of time before you started to show up as new words like soft pink clues dropped inside tiny fingernail teacups to find their innermost meaning, then wishes, floating up near the top like…
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Swords of Romeby Christopher Lee BucknerHello readers,The following is chapter Two of my Roman epic, Swords of Rome. The book is available to buy on Amazon: A special limited time offer of $0.99 for Kindle readers, and $14.99 for…
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Danny is one of life's armchair philosophers, and in a moment of complete absurdity asks himself if he has ever been in love. From that moment on he embarks on a quest to find out. Follow Danny as he searches for the 'Pink Blancmange', gets propositioned
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There's no rain--there hasn't been rain in weeks--but the clouds are dark without the sun, and I can't see the stars.
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I didn’t say to eat your keys and parrots.
It was peas and carrots. Idiot!
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I heard you singing in the bedrooms with me. The down I was fond of, down of your cheek, your thighs light blonde in the light. Out of the dark, sweet bay, were you like a shining rock, shining white, undulating, a thing of heat. I remember you, yes!
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and still every time I walked up there - so it can't be the cycling - I was nervous I would do it wrong
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Son, could you please step out of the car?
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to continue to crumble its way through another grinding cycle of slowly walking to the edge of the universe ancient treelike beings, like gentle ghost buffalo, and our own thundering buildings by the hundreds of thousands, …
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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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We now bring to the stage ....
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At first he thought it was a cat she was holding, swathed in a white, fleece blanket
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Dream, swan, dream of your woman, whenever you get hold of her. Problem after problem lets up under the grip you have. And conquest without plan is what you’ve added to the world. So, share your songs under wild silk, won’t you? I remember there was hel
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What it was for, didn’t matter. When Susan walked into Fred’s house every few weeks and start talking, he’d just nod and say, “Sure, I know how tough it is out there, baby.” Then they’d drink some wine and put on some music, and he’d give her a little mon
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By the time I got back to the island only Henson was still alive. He didn’t speak; the gun said it all.
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Then there is Ethelbert's husband whom Ethelbert hasn't met yet, and who has literally weighed in, as if fed up and tired of waiting for a long, in full length, needless, wake up story. That is when Ethelbert asks, "Amy who?" related to a different group
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rows and sections of casually arranged selectionswell crafted but haphazardpretty objets d'art randomly placed as cluesto significant life moments and revealing preferencesmy mother was an interior designershe would have clucked her tongueher head cocked to the sideas she…
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. . . I just didn’t think to call the mortician from the phone outside the grocer’s store, how gauche that would have sounded to any passers-by, a call to a mortuary from outside a grocer’s store!
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You could hear her coming from a long way off
like she kept trying to catch her breath,
like she was getting the fun rattled out of her bones.
But it was laughter, always laughter that kept on
filling up her belly from the inside
and she was
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This was supposed to be a love letter written by a content writer, then it just got weird.
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later still
wine parties with cucumber
red and rich
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Max understood this perfectly and could easily picture the slow-motion buckling of the spars and the accordion collapse of the fuselage as the propeller blades’ churned up the ground.
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“Don’t ever call me that name, formal or informal, okay? Forget you heard it.”
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I tell my students about a timewhen seniority was told by the number of fingers on a worker's hands No weekends or overtime, children — bare toes dangling — twelve hours on the line I look for…
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No One The city he abandoned lies below him. It's been years, so many tears. He admires the remains of the White City, The Shed, rooted ahead. He jaunts through Roosevelt Train station, hassled by the acrid stench pollinating the area. I…
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By the time the third car disappeared, Bud had noticed sudden lulls in the breeze, rain microbursts from otherwise blue skies, cold humid calms that trailed him around the junk.
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Fabulous birds perched nearby, where we were. In their memory there goes the little god, original, in the midst of it all, happiness like anything near the river-mouth. Letting yourself dabble in the femaleness of it. In the lower world or on the playin
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