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If you work in a library, you work with book carts, so naturally you give them nicknames. You could call your faithful book cart Bumpy, Squeaky, Rusty or Tipsy. But surely you can do better than that! Here's…
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And now the McRib
is back. Two dollars.
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We weren't sleeping much, either one of us. We went through the ritual, Pat and I. I brushed and flossed and got into bed and read while Pat took her contacts out and applied a…
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I decided to cheat on my husband the day the washing machine broke. It was Darrell's fault, anyway. If he hadn't tried to wash the dog in the Maytag, none of this would've happened. It just goes to show that a man who forsakes the normal use of a househol
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She said she wanted to find a man who could appreciate a woman who gave great head.
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The streets have terrible breath, it’s said, and everyone hides but the young, who have slick, naked shoulders and fragrant tobacco shreds in the linings of their empty pockets.
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I write to you from waiting for the world to end. I will leave this in a desk drawer.
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One day I was sucking down the HG French Vanilla, and the next day my body plugged itself into some universal energy grid. Like some unseen force had snuck into my body and somehow a biological experiment had gone terribly wrong. The unintended result was
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"... not just a jerk, you're like the king of the jerks!" the Black man said as they came into earshot. "When other jerks look for leadership, they just pick up their cell phone and you're pre-programmed in as the first entry on their speed dial!"
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The man is not happy at home. When he sees his wife or his son, he
knows that he should be, but he is not.
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Time advances. One space between words, two between sentences. When I'm not working, I rehearse the language of newspapers: teez, pica, reefer, jump, hed, sig.
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All eyes aim towards the heavens.
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She wanted one, she said. She wanted one who looked like me. I wanted one, because I wanted her. I wanted her for everything; I wanted her to fill every crack and space inside of me.
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The Italians live on top of the ruins of Roman cities and medieval settlements, of the towns and villages of the Visigoths and the Vandals, gesticulating, fornicating, craving poems, like all of us.
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That’s right–Bob Dylan, ne Robert Allen Zimmerman–will be riding shotgun with me as we head north to fight the good fight against the Democratic Party’s war on women.
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...the job was easy, just pour and deliver, pour and deliver.
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Although decades have passed since I last tasted lysergic acid with diethylamide flavoring, I cannot fail to remember the tasting.
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"Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars,/The trees and flowers have been strewing their cool odors./I walk among them, but none of them are noticing."
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Every few days, on one of our walks, the dog and I go down to a shallow, quick river...
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I'm not a librarian. I'm an Information Goddess.
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Schrödinger's Cat twitched and nodded as he picked up the discards, casting his mind back to 2014, when local confidence seemed at its peak . . .
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I had time to kill. I got on the merry-go-round, letting it go slow, thinking of starting blocks, how I might push off them.
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My niece Katie is wailing outside for all the world to see. We are standing in the Dillard's parking lot and she is drawing everyone's attention. Well, everyone in a 46-block radius. It has just been that kind of weekend--a wailing weekend. My sister-in-
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During the course of her life Cleo screwed every single President.
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Marie knew that she should get out of the tub. She understood that Ellen was at the point of explosion. But Marie was too invested in imagining the picture she made at that very moment. As if through Benoit Doniel's eyes. As if it was a scene in a movie.
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A wrinkled old woman sat at the table next to me. “Are you a writer?” she asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“Are you Jewish?”
“No, I’m not,” I replied.
“Where do you come from?” she asked in her broken English.
“Chicago,” I said. “The Bohemian ghetto there, o
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Sylvia used his computer to write two-page stories about women who killed themselves with blue pills because the shirts came back from the laundry unpressed and their husbands stayed out late with secretaries. Every story ended with the image it began.
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and floated along withus like it was attachedwith a string. I thought thatmeant we had a boat incase of emergenciesbut she said it was sadto see it followingin our wake like a cork.I still think it looked everybit the stylish silver-capped swimmer doingthe…
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I was thin and young. There's a kind of freedom to be found when walking around inside that kind of body, that allows you to have in this world what's known as a presence. People see you eating but they can't make out what for. You're not going to…
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