This tall, very fair, very blonde, very female, very feminist friend of mine, with a smile the moon and stars must take lessons from. . . .

Jim twisted the skinny trunk of his body in a fast, violent jerk just as the cop grabbed the buckle of his left Harley Davidson boot. When the boot flopped off, Jim found himself sitting upright, ready to jump up and run. But then he felt the baton lock down on his…

We were both looking up at the rainy sky, while the big jet barely moved through the clouds, coming in for a landing at Oakland between storms. It sort of reminded me of 911, the way they just seemed to hover above us, barely moving, like they were poss

About four in the afternoon a pigeon began admiring itself in the shiny panel of a car door until another pigeon came along and it quit acting foolish.

one word prompts

ambiguity of lightning

A young woman in shorts removes her sunglasses, putting them on top of her head in order to study the little girl sitting on her father’s lap on the bus. “I want to get me one of those,” she says, with her dark eyes smiling.

Transhumanism has always had its malcontents usually derived from some philosophic contestation, but for all their thought experiments, somehow my present situation eluded them.

His throat had turned red after a few days of singing, and when he looked in the mirror he saw little sacs of white pus, like pimples, in the back of his mouth. “You got to pace yourself,” the big black woman who sang at the other beer garden told him.

Still Life with Dragon Fruit and Absinthe Glass ‚ Allgegenwart ist Einsamkeit. ‘. — Johannes Jakob Hrodebertsohn …And bright inside this space, though outside lightfall? The spillaging of streetlamps does not cross the…

The canvas bag lay crumpled and moaning in the middle of the room as Mister and Miss Marital Bliss contemplated what to do to it next. Spots of deep crimson blossomed like spring flowers all over the white sack and a large pool had gathered underneath. Rivulets of blood…

My friend and I were talking while having burritos (some days, it is as if all we ever eat are burritos, existentially speaking) and I was looking at the way he inserted that shaft of meat in his mouth and thought him prodigious for his technique

Chin beards, flannel shirts, Levis no boots anymore, just loose sandals their chicks with double triple multiple chins falling asleep on their own palms

Then it gets worse—this reading of books—I go to the café and can only read a minimalist there, one crouton at a time.

Adrienne found her calling in Africa feeding poor children or whatever the fuck you do when you're in the Peace Corps.