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Five Million Yen: Chapter 24

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As Zoë says, “You and your musician friends drink in industrial quantities.”

And then we... Part 2

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The way I figure it, mom wasn't worth a shit. I'd cry when she hit me but she'd just keep pounding. When I was seven, she burned a hole in my back. It happened one day at the fair. We were walking around. She didn't have any money so all we could do was walk. I had…

The Magic of the Old Man

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As far as I knew it was just an old man and his wife who lived in this house, but not really. I mean if you had seen what every person on that block had, you would have realized that many lived there, well many beings.

Our Dreams Were Their Feathers

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The white moon is dangling by a thread tonight. I close my eyes and listen to it undress. Your halo fell around your ankles and you became see-through, but there’s a vast gulf between being pretty, and pretty dangerous. Still, I’ve s

Stinking oil

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When were you flash frozen?

Excelsior - A poem in 9 parts (Post 5 of 5)

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VIII. Towards Affinities, Beyond My love, since I saw you last, since before we reached the chamber, I cannot count the quasars which have passed, but there still gleams Time, Like a memory of a lost event unwitnessed, and this illusion Carried…

Thanksgiving

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Didn't usually go to the parade because it was long and cold But only a few blocks from the apartment Maybe if the sun had warmed all up some

Ink on Paper

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Waves like lovers gather and crest, crash into White uncertainty.

Simpler Disasters

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In the afternoon, there was a certain time when the sunlight spilled through the windows in the common room and made everything look all bright and fresh and optimistic. If you ignored the patients and doctors milling about and…

Broken

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I rang the doorbell. Claire opened the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I opened my arms to give her a big hug. She stiffened and pulled away. Stunned, my lips parted, but I couldn’t think of a single word to say. Ideal, Phillis. ”Broken”, Pure

Domestic Tragedy

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We never meant to gain their confidence only to outgrow them. They were once our best friends, the ones who listened, the ones who understood or sat across from us so we could see them nod. They leaned…

the last day of the world

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I thought that was the last day of the world (when I floated up near your ceiling,) but it was the first. I thought I had seen the worst. But that was nothing. I know you had no idea what was coming when I first met you. But when we looked in each other

Masquerade III

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. . . he's of mixed race. Along with European blood, he's got Mexican Indian and African blood. Here's the irony. He don't look nothing like a white European man but he thinks like one.

Love Letter From a Content Writer

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This was supposed to be a love letter written by a content writer, then it just got weird.

Pops

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My father is the kind of man to shout at you / just because you took the wrong road / at least the road that he’s not used to...

Tons

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Drink tons of water they keep telling me...

Portrait without Birds

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so Tippi has no interest

Pitcher

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the shape only adhering

For Linebacker-Poets, Annual Award Ceremony a Jarring Hit

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Dutton felt thwarted in his literary career, producing only the classic "Here I sit all broken-hearted, paid a nickel to crap and only farted" in a locker room stall at halftime of the 1963 Weedwacker Bowl.

universal placeholder

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ambiguity of lightning

Blood In Heaven

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She felt the ants crawling across her arms, felt them digging into her flesh. The needle was still attached to her flesh, bruises lined along the stretch of skin. Her body convulsed until she slipped into slumber. The following morning she could no longer continue her self…

Jam Sessions with Wannabe Rock Stars

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Hey Sledge! Yo. Did you know Socrates hated the idea of writing thoughts down? He said it weakened the memory…made us lazy. Say wha? That's why he never wrote a book. The only way we know about him is through his student Plato's writing. St

The poplar

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Sometimes we hurt ourselves, we scratch ourselves, we bleed — for a simple joy... All I wanted to do was to find the poplar again — the tree of my young arms, of my budding breasts. My fingers used to circle around its bold and vigorous waist, but in the…

Disappearing

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They say nothing, but instead watch the birds and people hovering. Every day is an echo of the one before, and the weight of waiting has begun to show itself in the stature of the tiny man and his little old wife. …

civilization

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pain and anger

The Nurse's Dream of Flowershops

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the lazy leaves of a parlour palm finger lavender in a wine bottle.

Aftermath

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You better read the papers If you don’t understand Cause as of last night I’m a one-man band You’d better walk through water With your boots on fire Cause Baby I don’t think I can take this any higher You’d better find out what I dr

3

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1 is another.

Omens

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The rain falls soft after a hard weekend.

First Man ~ 1947

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By the basement washtubs, I watched him skin a squirrel: