Imagine a morning without dawn, without daylight ... The night birds still hoot, the flowers wait for the light to change their make-up, black birds have locked their beaks. A morning unlike any other ... The moon above continues to reign over the milky way, the stars to…

I looked at your long fingers in the sunlight, / pale and delicate as paper, and I thought: / Those same fingers were in someone’s pussy

At my daughter's wake Mr. Aleford, her teacher, poked out his pointy nose, sniffing my cologne. How could I be plastered with this, at a time like this? Well, dear Sir, Two reasons. One, to hide the booze. And two, because my wife and I had made feverish love that…

His throat still burned and his muscles ached but the codeine put it at a manageable distance. He sank into delicious sleep and was awakened some minutes later by a terrific jolt and the crash of metal.

electron metastasis

Standing on the edge of the great shelf

Pope Leo XIII endorsed a cocaine-based drink and at the age of 90 sat in on a session with a castrato that is still available on CD.

There had been a whore house at the spot for a century, since the cowboys drove cattle up the Chisolm Trail to town, to be loaded onto boxcars bound for the Chicago stockyards.

to think of him looking at me / for he to be I and I to be he / it is almost unbearable / to occupy two bodies at once—

The light on his face from a lamp Felt hat with a black band Scrunched down The nose creating a strong shadow With dark, straight eyebrows under the hat Red and orange beard Leaning forward at the café table, watching A damp curl of ha

They left their great need behind When they were taken out of the country. They seem to live without thought of that blood. They do not respond to anything that calls to it. They seem shallow. They feed on image alone. Blood does not shake the

I threw my cards on the table. The jerk was playing his classical records again. I could hear that lousy music a mile away and he was the kind of kid that makes your skin crawl. But he had a CD sound system and it was up loud this time so that the house

You better not come home drunk, you shithead, or you'll be sleeping in the yard!

With his toga thrown over one shoulder because it was so hot out which has led to various and sundry theories of the naked centurions riding on horses in this manner through some unimaginable desert on a long march or even along the banks…

Unready for the world, we pawned ourselves for a longer lease on youth.