Sex is a sad reason to be alone with someone.

So, I say, what is the answer? The answer to what? You know. The song by Bob Dylan. The answer is blowing in the wind. You’re the wind. So what’s the answer?

She's speaking again, this time in whispers. Her head is shrinking in on itself. If there is a way to save her I'm not aware of it.

But do come close enough for me to hear.

I was tired and lonesome when I checked into another insufferable, shop-worn Holiday Inn. It was the only motel around with the internet — dial up only — in that little jerkwater town, Notmuch, Alabama. It was too late for a nap, so I jumped in the shower,…

I was born at the age of 42. Some of you might regard that as a handicap, but at the time I assumed everyone was born fully grown in a corporate test kitchen. In fact, I still think of it as an advantage; like being born with a silver spoon in my hand.

"A prostitute of the Hotel Khadijah in Rahab fell in love with my father...."

While I had believed that the subject had been exhausted, that the bottomless pit of the individual navel gazer had been done to death, now here arrives How To Find Yourself to show that previous literature had only scratched the surface of the belly butt

She can still be normal, says Momma, knowing my sister can’t hear, forgetting I can.

This year, instead of giving roses or candy for Valentine's Day, why not give something your spouse will never forget. A brand new divorce!

In the tang of winter warm and summer cool,

I'm not sure if my heart is breaking Or attacking Like an aged lovesick romantic with a faulty beat, I sense a valve needs replacing But only after the main artery has been sutured and made whole By a seasoned and skilled Midwest surgeon in a…

Undies before jewelry!

I, personally, just had no interest in having some pimply-faced moron stick his tongue down my throat.

She can never say why, but guilt rides her bones like the spirit. She rubs worry raw.