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PROSPER CENTRAL SCHOOLS PSYCHOEDUCATIONAL EVALUATION CONFIDENTIAL Prosper Central…
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I remember, when I was selling real estate, how you could always tell when there'd been a divorce. One room was conspicuously left emptied of its contents, and these rooms were never swept or tidied. Instead they were left just as they were when the par
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Sitting on the surface of it, near the entrance to its sex,
A tiny child sitting up, the flower enormous,
The child sitting in the white light
That is almost granular.
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So today was basically mellow. The blue jays argued over who would bathe first in my fountain. When a squirrel showed up, the birds left, but the doves took their place. Our local woodpecker, apparently recovered from a day long headbanging session, returned to the…
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She also, wearing the requisite Hawaiian lei in this naked wedding photograph, but her low-swung breasts were hanging all the way down to her navel. Her navel itself appeared to be about as round and deep as a shot glass. There was this smear of gaudy flu
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The sand was covered with shards of mirror glass, which reflected the bright sun in myriads of twinkling daylight stars.
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B: Write a short story about men for the gym teacher. Write a candle for the century.
A: How do I end it?
B: Write a synopsis.
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I remember one time I was downtown when this little old lady came up to me at a café, looked in my face, and said, “You know what?”
I was surprised she was even speaking to me, a young blonde girl sitting alone at a restaurant, with the shadows play
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“So, I’m watching the feed from Garowe and, by Allah, there’s a picture of Mohamed Guled, I can’t believe it, with a rocket launcher.
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Robert had chopped his hair and grown a soul patch since I'd last seen him. He was tanned, the hair on the top of his head was spiked, and some gray specks were creeping in on the hair on the side of his head. Had…
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The timing could not have been worse.
Because of the heat building up over the weekend, my bathtub had cracked.
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Sleeping at home gives an inkling's idea,of absent last abstractions. Muses surf unknown unknowns, through keyways of sidewalk approaches.And manifold techniques frame afoul light's fated But ultimate demise.When once of…
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Shhhh, my husband is trying to write...
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Touch the wrong thing and everything will crash down around you. This was the fatherly advice Warren bestowed upon me as we entered his Miami apartment.
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Vanessa wasn't going to get another choice in this game. This was her only chance to be a part of the Ian-crowd. All she had to do was choose correctly from the three cards sitting between her and the group facing her. In the cold and dimly-lit room, Vanessa stared intently…
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It must have been twenty years before I first heard Willie Nelson’s voice without the accompaniment of my mother’s crying. She liked to listen to country music on the radio while she cleaned dishes, ironed shirts, watered plants, and whatever else the hou
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It is always midnight in my heart; / and melancholy advances from handsome men / only take place in my mind...
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She who is not a widow had once listened to the river repeat its story.
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If it had a surface, he painted it purple. If it didn’t have a surface, he painted it purple.
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we wanted summer:
Distillers at Myhalyk's
all those cancelled shows
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I felt I should write a song
To tell you what you meant to me
Something I needed to find inside
That surprised even me
I was blinded by myself
And couldn’t see that well
What did I do to deserve you?
I never knew
I’d been through h
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Neil Young told me, “Artistry is like waves. You’re in a trough and everybody thinks you’re gone and then you come to the top of a wave and everybody says, hey, where’d you come from? We thought you were gone.”
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I don’t read.
I don’t do the dishes.
What am I?
If I were more domesticated, I’d poop in the street.
I’d lift my leg and pee on the bushes.
I would chase after every ass in the hood
and sniff them too.
I wouldn’t fetch much.
What am I? Wha
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See if you can come up with the pattern. There is very little run-up to the theme. I am not making this up...
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My lover passes the healing comb
through the hair of my soul
during the night
as she retouches my youth
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IThe squirrels danced in the trees.They leapt from branch to limbto the struck down tree trunk,thick with bark.The creek was overfilled.Lightning had lasted for days."Just one more day,"she told herself"Just one more day,"before the sun comes out again.The lightning had…
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every color of sound turned to green /
human beasts’ treadmill tastes must be trained: / we may yet starve to death, but we’ll die de-brained!
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My mother loves Phil Collins. When my brother and I were young, she told us she was his back-up drummer, that he'd send a private helicopter to pick her up whenever he needed an extra hand. Though we never saw her leave, we decided drumming was in our blood, and…
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