Hot sweaty bodies slam into each other to get aboard the overflowing subway car. I struggle to wedge myself though the sliding doors, bracing for more bodies to press against mine. The passengers in front of me suddenly stop and fan out.

On the febrile edge

Communism Capitalism Gism or Gysm, either way Avoid anything with an Ism Catholicism Botulism Socialism Skepticism If its got an Ism in it Avoid it, okay? (Advice for our newborn daughter) Avoidalism is okay Though So you c

My chin is half-eaten. My chest is gone. There is a rhythm to how each flame licks me. Like how you used to in the mornings before work. Before the coffee. Before the toaster. Before a rose clenched between your teeth and dancing.

You sit brooding at the barOn a Friday nightOn the patio on a Friday nightAnd people try to figure you outI thinkAnd I am so quite andSo tired Too tired to even drive homeDrainedI just need that drink to feel betterAnd I stare off in a hazeWhats wrong?I don't…

Billy fell into a bottle, and we couldn't get him out.

Do you remember?

I remember distinctly the first time I saw Lynda. She was not a stunning-looking girl by any stretch of the imagination. She was short, with naturally blond Swedish hair that she wore in a long ponytail that dropped down her back. It was freezing outs

You were there at the beginning almost, when I wanted to write about the dead spider I smashed on my bedroom wall, comparing it to the blue/grey smoke of the blown-off fireworks drifting overhead.

nevertheless, this crowd had come up with a universal cure for humanity, and regardless of consequences . . .

You don't deserve this poem and I don't deserve to write it. Whatever time we have left is way better spent sitting in a sunny garden with a good interesting book and with a beautiful golden delicious apple to bite into. But…

I guess it was a foregone conclusion that you would be gone at the end of the year. A foregone conclusion that you wouldn’t be coming back, and that after you began writing letters to Sharon saying what you would do to her when you did come back in th

George didn’t move when Cindy punched him in the nose. He just stood up and walked to the fridge, poured a glass of water and dropped a few ice cubes into the glass. The ice cracked in the glass as he walked back to the couch.

The abstracted man lacks an inside. He is a body. A shell. An exterior that encompasses nothing.The abstracted man yearns to fill himself with adjectives. He lumbers through streets. No adjectives fit. He finds adjectives where we discard them. He carries them in his…

Mothers and sons and war, an old story...