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O' madam, betwixt the pages A story professed to love A wonder of descriptive prose Delights read enraptured “My favorite book”, so you said O' madam, your heroine is flawed Wounding herself beyond measure And those she swears she…
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She likes his smile and Cajun accent, his earring and dangerous ink.
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Chromio citrio sticky-floored furio...
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The appointed day came without much fanfare. The day was gloomy, but it would do. They climbed to the roof of the house to a small landing where Smiley placed the tiny piano stool smack dab in the middle. As soon as Ethan sat down Smiley rotated the chair
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All the things that are his.
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Now, this boy removed his socks in front of me, on the chair beside my desk where I read my books, and said: “My toenails aren’t shaped properly.”
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... the CBO issued a concise and brilliant report demonstrating that the most cost-effective and permanent solution to the multiple problems presented by persistent poverty in the United States was the elimination of all those with prorated household or i
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The following is a true story, or rather it is a true experience from the story of my life. Some say that just because something happens doesn’t really make it “true”.
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With each step, that cold hand steals ever upward.
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a snowflake won’t settle on a smoking furnace;
the fathers were never restless, it was always the earth that moved.
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As I go by I see five, six high school kids standing on the corner waiting for the bus. They are huddled together like a bunch of ducks....
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Mayumi faced forward, channeled her Mana, and gathered a small pocket of air under hand. Soon the voice returned, rattling her mind.
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Cicadas shed their skin as they grow, leaving crisp hollowed out remains on tree trunks, fence posts, and the undersides of upturned leaves. Tommy and I would collect them in the early morning and stick them to our clothes like brooches. I used to like Tommy,…
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Hollow as spit over rock
Was the mood in the library...
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We were wild, medieval magpies,
sweaty and sweet and selfish; and so much more
than we were before I lit that first stick of spice,
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Friends of the bride
feeling out of place
like a church key
at a wedding
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She’d reached me after running through the directory, alphabetically. Apparently no one in the a’s or b’s or c’s before me would talk to her.
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I was insufficiently abused as a child.
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It’s all a matter of warped mirrors. As in the multi-mirrored passage I stood before as a boy
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J., W., and W.’s girlfriend were exploring the nature and mores of homosexual conduct by discussing whether W. would be willing to suck J.’s cock.
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my pilgrim tongue
on the map of
your body
seeks sanctuary
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Like the miserable sledgehammer am I, with no adjective in place to praise your moon, you are a hole well-worn into my favorite hanging rock. I've only been able to reinvent this wronged language, in which being moved…
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Mr. Blumberg and I sat side by side on a small couch in the family room. He was watching a football game on TV.
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He looks at me again, this time glancing down at my skinny jeans, “And... are you a single mom?” he seems to think he has it right, taking a last look at my aquamarine colored pants and the tapered area around my calves.
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Fragment’s of ignorance strewn by a haphazard hand
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Sunlight and the small wind/
swallow the frost/
on rooftops and windshields
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