“‘Dial Back the Snark’ is an attempt to fight the cynicism that’s corroding America’s social fabric,” Myers says, mixing his metaphors. “It’s spreading like wildfire."

My dad was in a barber training school where they cut off the tip of a bum's ear and taped it back on with scotch tape

A likeness borne in silk, rich contours of canvas giving life to the seascape.

Cleopatra fills her cart with food and cosmetics until it is overflowing. She proceeds out of the store. The clerks stop running products over their scanners and gaze in incredulity, and confusion.

I sulk across the room to feed you,hold your hand, tell you everything will be fine. It is the right time of night,the light from the street falls onto the chairat the perfect angle. I look at you, gray, shimmering, persnickety. Don't move, thisis just the dust, helping me…

This girl who looks about ten years old and her Pomeranian puppy are staring at my left arm and my right hand keeps filling out the form and I know I shouldn't but I say what she's been begging me to for the last half hour: It wasn't Wilbur. It was a woman. A girl,…

Fleeting moments of tension free, Sensory glimpses of how it could be, A sweet easy rhythm in synchrony Is how it seems for you, too, to me. There's nothing really but memory, Yet promise of something's The world I see.

“Hey! You can’t be whistling on Greyhound,” the bus driver said, looking up in the rearview mirror.

Wheels are spinning On the country roads tonight I’m driving all alone No one else in sight And the wind’s in my hair And I don’t care Yeah, the wind’s in my hair And I don’t care

The world had gathered to hear about how the world’s most expensive and scientifically advanced theme park had turned into one of the largest crime scenes, and nightmares, of the modern age.

“Elaine, what's that bee doing?”, asked Jonathan as he slid his reading glasses down and turned his attention from the morning paper to a bee that had landed on the his Nesbitt's Lime soda bottle. The bottle sat on the small, hand-made table in their back…

there are nights when you're all alonein the darkwhere the only lightis the glow of the computer screenand words can't seem the scratchthe surface of your skulland bit by bitthe sentences, phrases, and lettersattached to your synapsesdrownin your subconscious

It was a summer full of rage and discontent. The air had a new taste to it, reminiscent of the tang of battery acid.

Through by the sands and the rocks we were going and the lake liquid had tumbled the stones by the thousands so that while the water was still we could see agates and yellow jaspers and other or even the odd and misspent piece of rounded glass green or white safe…

Then I learned she was revealing all our sexcapades to this young priest. Forgive me, father, I have sinned. We had sex outdoors against a tree in Wisconsin and the tree was blending with our act and becoming one with my back rubbing up against the bark