I thought drowning you was the answer. I had barely opened my eyes as I leaned over the sink to brush my teeth, and you were poised near the drain, a furry brown spider, and the largest one I had ever seen up close. I was afraid to smash you, so I flooded you with…

Father, trouble me memory;laconic, idle, some glint on the dark. Recall us to me: what did we have, or what did we lose? Like some late affection, open me again, laugh it out of us. It is not loss I'm looking toput back together, papered over…

Cockroaches may be falling through the holes in the floorboards of heaven, but we will not be disturbed. We are agents, free and clear, even if a little bit mean. I want to quit worrying about money, but the angels upstairs won’t let me. The

Then there was Marsha, the blonde bombshell, at Irvine, who slept over one night only. As in the original one night stand, your standard L.A. blonde beach-girl bombshell ex-cheerleader tear your heart out and spit it as far as she could. Wrench your bal

Whoever told us that truth-telling was so wonderful, when we can plainly see that lying is the way to get results?

A waiter at the café was saying “I’m opening the curtain here behind your back Is that okay?” “Go ahead,” I told him. “It’s all right” “Enemies are taken care of?” “They already got everything,” I said Suddenly both of us were laughi

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

Below them, the clag shears open in irregular patches, the lights of Seattle resolving themselves through the thinning overcast then vanishing again by turns.

the visual field is an in-rushing city of refractions bouncing across the water.

The president snapped awake at three AM. He realized he was a serial killer. Highly trained and equipped killers on his orders were summarily murdering thousands of raggedly dressed people in the name of Democracy.

martyred young women lie in hospital beds

My job was take the falls, act the dope, finish at the wrong end of the slap stick for the blow off. I was Auguste, the fool; I drove the clown car.

Still worried. I could use some more hope in my oatmeal.

I'm feeling almost better than you know A little bit better than the day before Waking up to a deafening scream Please, please don't hurt me no more Why do I feel like a lost dog? Staring outside the window pane How come I become dark? When the clouds begin to rain…

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.