1149 2 1
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They called him Hank. We piled in a car and drove up from Irvine to his little bungalow apartment on DeLongpre near Hollywood Blvd. for a collating party for this Mag he started with Neely called “Laugh Literary and Man the Humping Guns.” No shit, that wa
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A likeness borne in silk, rich contours of canvas giving life to the seascape.
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Who does that besides Kafka,
Arreola, and Steven Wright?
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she said, point blank, “Can you help me? I need a lover, and a friend.”
“I can be both,” I said. I don’t know, I just opened my mouth and out it flew. You don’t even stop to think what you might be saying at a moment like that. I mean, she knew I was s
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“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…
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We all have our place
But it’s always there, isn’t it
Streaming throughout our lives
The light of the face
Where most of the soul comes to rest
We see it best when the hard wind blows
Cause in the course of events
The wind will know our
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a body lost in thought
stays hopelessly lost in thought
for as long as the latte lasts
and the coffee shop stays open
and the moms don’t gather with their baby carriages
and the bums don’t bum overly much
and the trust funders don’t lose too
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“Hey! You can’t be
whistling on Greyhound,”
the bus driver said,
looking up
in the rearview mirror.
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It was a summer full of rage and discontent. The air had a new taste to it, reminiscent of the tang of battery acid.
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1148 2 1
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1148 1 1
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"We improvised to show our Spanish compadres that we meant them no disrespect, and the running of the cats was born."
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Cold hurts at first, but you wake up.
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Most of life, it
turns out,
is pathetic.
Very little is funny.
We have to generate our
own laughter.
Canned laughter
may have to do.
Even if we have to carry
the can around our neck
like a Saint Bernard
or strapped to our
hip
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We were fleeing Hurricane Katrina
We stopped somewhere in Texas at a roadside diner
But found a sign that said it was closed
All of a sudden as we sat there in our car
The shop’s owner knocked on the window
And asked what he could get for us
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Shit, I guess I'm gonna hafta
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The despair that comes and goes is here again
I saw a woman who was holding herself
As she walked past, as if a fire were about to
Lunge out of her parts
She was in such great need of being held
The despair that comes and goes is here again
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my tiny white world, the cube in the closet in the back above the shelving in a secret compartment cut into the wall
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1147 0 0
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Have you ever Felt As if you were Alone In the world?
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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…
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1147 5 1
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the Coke made his butt leak blood
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The sexuality comes over us in waves. We need to hold things, someone. The women, the men, side by side, our features blending together. We notice the small curved lines at the corners of the mouth. We notice everything. And the animal is still inside m
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1146 1 0
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The funeral grounds look level and calm. We leave the urban world behind for an instant. The other world has claimed someone. But we are in limbo. It is a terrible thing when a connection or breakthrough moment is not achieved or granted by the universe. …
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1146 0 0
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For every Ruben Studdard, there are ten Mick Jaggers and, considered merely in terms of avoirdupois, the two sides of that scale would probably balance.
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“Your family, that family is crazy, everyone of them hush hush, tweet tweet, a little screw loose – or a bird, what kind of bird they got there?”
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She lay on the cool white linoleum floor. Her eyes pointed at the dust under the refrigerator, but she didn't see it. She didn't see anything anymore. She heard the clock ticking out the seconds. Thoughts ricocheted around her brain at the speed of light, making …
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1145 0 0
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Dave Sharpe silently pulled his desk chair out of its nook that was conveniently placed underneath his desk. He took a deep breath as he slowly took his place in the seat and nudged it into a perfect…
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1145 0 0
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On the way to
The Museum of Inner Light
Expect delays
Expect bumps in the road
Expect potholes and such
Expect a murder of crows
Rolling acorns over the rooftops
But what I want to know is who
Who eats a butterfly
On the way to
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There was the small wooden structure near the base of the mountain. It had weathered many storms and its walls talked about the scars of this. In the hills to the west various cries came out from feral animals that seemed to go linger that autumn. But it had been a…
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