...I grew up in a provincial town which at the time had no bookstore and no library — no library even at school...

I don't think dogs like to die with the pack. The smell of them rotting brings trouble in the wild,

When you finally got blood from the hard stick You spotted the backflash of red And said Thank God. The woman’s legs and arms Were everywhere, and you were in the middle Holding her down with one hand while wielding A butterfly in the other. You stuc

There's always a sound, something triggering the fear.

The book has known many women’s hands, something erotic and frequently checked out from our local library. Its cover depicts a man and a woman, both with improbable if not impossible bodies. I believe the term is bodice-ripper.

so for penance, the priest gave me the full twelve Stations of the Cross

I have never met Joe’s brother, of course.

To my right, blank stares interchange with closed eyelids on an unkempt face. The minutes drip into the endless sea of night outside the window, each time creating a deeper blackness.

"Geez," I thought, "not only is this daredevil felon fellow my EXACT height and build — his co-conspiring gal-pal must be, too!" I exhaled what felt like a gallon’s worth of air though my nose. "This is just getting too fucking weird ..."

I can feel the souls of those who perished here They’re still here like old kites hanging in the sky tattered, but they won’t come down or can’t come down just yet because they haven’t fulfilled their unborn promises t

I am wearing stolen socks. Not because I haven't any of my own, and not because they are an exact fit. Only because they soothe my emptiness inside.

this one was abandoned... a splinter left under the skin, pushed out by protective flesh

salmon maple syrup horseradish smoke detector the list read, scrawled in purple marker on the refrigerator door.

Unexpected Fever

No snippet to see, here. The piece is so short a snippet would be the whole thing.