Before the new arm, I used to sit outside the players' facility and wonder, in between the throbs of pain pulsing sickly through my temples, how much longer I could be a hockey player.

No one has the right/ to script how someone dies.

Let's put a cork in this drain.

Less than a week ago, I was still a republican. It’s strange what an invitation for a job interview at the Palace does with your principles. I’m especially nervous because the interview’s late in the afternoon. I could go to the be

Where the Story LiesEverybody wants to knowwhere the story lies. Does itlie in childhood? Does it liein old age? Does it lie in anangry outburst or a stingingrebuke? Does it lie in a momentof compassion or in the recognitionof calloused selfishness? Bruisedlove or…

of a strangely found desire. I wanted to tell you something important, I'm sure, I mean it's pretty obvious, even in this funny breathing space, but everything has been said to death. More isn't always…

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…

I came out of the Quick Stop and found her in the back seat of my ten-year-old Camry. I don’t know who she is, or why she chose my car. I do know she’s having a baby any minute now.

you stand ashore

I’d caught a small fish but there wasn't enough room on the bridge to reel it in completely so I carried it hanging from my pole along the edge of the traffic A fine black dog joined me following me into the shack at the end of the bridg

Meagan rides the subway with perfect lips and deep thoughts, looking moody out the smudged window like an actress in a Sofia Coppola film.

I held the steam and scrubbed it. How do you do that? asked Willy. How do you scrub steam? It is so, you know, diaphanous. I said to Willy, because Willy was a good man and listened with both ears, we adapt to the heart's convulsions. I send my grammar to a…

I had laid my hand down hard upon a long forgotten shard of an old coke bottle. The cut is deep.

If someone told me like people do / that I am a good person / I will never believe them / mostly because I own a mirror / but also because I have lived with myself / for the rest of my life

The way horizons disappear in the dark.