She was a beautiful woman. I don't argue with that. I welcome it.

For some, a vertical pattern will evoke prison bars, for others, product bar codes.

I know now, how she moves without verbs after you crushed her into the river.

Night fell and the photographer slept, one hand between Prue's legs.

I hope you'll have the time to read this before your attention wanders.

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

Veiled by tenuous clouds and dirty air,

My favorite was a red bowler, a man's hat, which I never dared wear outside my tiny bedroom. My three brothers wanted it too much to take that kind of a risk. They'd poke me with various sharp objects: the serrated edge of the bread knife, the rusted TV

There's a mirror in front of me and I thought it was so I could see myself, but I didn't want to see me.

I rummage around to see which of our many countertop appliances might do the trick. Yogurt maker? No, I need something with more muscle. The Cuisinart--just the thing! I pick through the detachable blades—where’s the isotope shredder?

Out the window is an empty birdbath, dry flaky concrete ring, no birds.

“Last night the Scots invaded Sweden,” I wrote, “to retrieve the silver filched from the Irish the Norwegians had in their coffers when Sweden conquered. The Swedes offered the Nobel to a Scots writer to keep ... the peace."

pluck me from the charred grate

I talk wands and magic and how women aren't supposed to care, but I do, and she talks length and girth. Her fiancé has neither, she makes an illustration with her pinky and says that if they don't marry within the year, she's dumping his ass and we

I screwed my courage to the sticking point and asked him if he had shot down any Japanese airplanes. He grinned at me. “One,” he said.