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Keep it, Curt

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Just move out.

The Blue of Milk

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She said this is our abode and it sounded like a warble and she made a sweeping gesture with her arm and the boy started to cry.

How the Body Prepares Itself

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it corrupts the smells// and flavors of the world/ and plants its swollen face

Navigation

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If I pour long-winded cries on himand inhale these rocks easilymingled with whiskey sour breath but uneasy, willour thin containing still unfurl these sails?

Then, But Not Now

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The one-legged crow was back in the yard again today, as it was yesterday and may have been before, but yesterday was the first time I noticed it among the murder while using the binoculars that I often use to bring things closer, things like these iridescent and beautiful…

Which Way to the Vomitorium

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When I saw that Chez Panisse was serving crawdaddies (the menu called them crayfish, but I know a crawdaddy when I see it), I relaxed. I didn't eat the ugly creatures when my brother fished them out of irrigation ditches back on our farm near Roswell, and

Blizzard on 105th Street

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severe snow storm coming. I'm looking for a parking spot and listening to Machito & Charlie Parker

Somewhere East of There

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The last time I saw my father he wasn't dead.

A Dollop of Love

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Mary Magdalene might’ve given him a dollop of love for the terrible pain. There, my father remarked was a woman, a barefaced hussy, forgiven her sins by “a better man than I, Gunga Din,” he’d say.

Oscar et Jimbo: Another Parisian Love Letter

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He flew, still flies sideways nevertheless, like a wire hung thing from a Méliès fantasy. Méliès, a neighbor now.

Fat Man in a Blizzard

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There he was. Minnesota Fats, short and pudgy, jowly and blond-haired.

Like Water

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I become a lake, a river, a stream, an ocean that will one day be able to move anything, anyone.

Librarians! What Are We Hiding?

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Librarians are hiding something. What is it?

Working Girls

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In the summer when it's light out later it's my nature to linger a couple of hours in the park after work, just standing around watching the Downtown Divas working the corner, offering themselves to each male driver who stops for the light and I always joke with them about…

But It's Been a While

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When I first met Luther he was sitting on the sidewalk, his back pushed up against a vacant storefront wall, thumbing through the “help wanted” section of a few-days-old copy of our local paper and I was moved to offer him a couple of dollars for which he said,…

Blackouts... Take Seven w/Snare drum, Piano & Sax

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Her name flashes like block letters shaded in blue in front of her. The image sinks and fades into the sidewalk.

Take Back the Night

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A woman who is, say, a culinary arts champion or an heiress devoted to literature such as Bryher (Annie Winifred Ellerman) or Peggy Guggenheim might be able to turn me on, turn me out, turn me around.

Strings

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The field opens up to us like something born.

Manifest Destiny

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Will it take the rise/ of cyber guerillas to finish it/ in the way it should be finished

Funeral Outfit

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It’s a good thing you wear so much black -- you won’t have a ‘funeral outfit,’” she said...

Another Dream

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“I fly in my dreams,” his mother said. “It's my privilege.”

Greenback Fly

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It doesn't take a genius to figure how he sank, in the drink, like Jeff Buckley. Like a stone.

Bacon's Blood (4)

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“It's not a tattoo. It's a birthmark, about the size of a dime. It's in a very private place..."

Bacon's Blood (3)

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“Coffin?” He kept his own voice casual.

How to pick up women.

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The easiest and most legal way to pick up a woman is to take a single, writer friend with you to a bar. While there, look for the woman you are interested in. Her? Are you sure? Okay then. Next, tell your writer friend that the woman keeps looking at him when he's…

Lagging for Break

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I lay down my dime to mark my spot on the green felt. Your turn.

Unveiling Kirkiss Automated Amazon Reviews!!!

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No! No! No! No! No!

Mine

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My father was dating already. Her name was Shelly. She had a man-like body, buck teeth and red hair, a big forehead. I don't know what bog she climbed out of. She wanted to fill in for my mother, but I locked her out of my room. I just wanted to be sad and hold…

A Horse Walks into a Bar

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I got this job where I sell snow cones from a cart in a petting zoo. Parents ask if their children can take pictures with me. I neigh and nod my big horse head. After my shifts, I go into the bar, still in my getup, as this horse, and the bartender says,

Going Organic

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I should probably make it clear up front that I am not in my right mind, which I quite understand compromises the credibility of what I'm about to say. Without going into the history of my minor and somewhat more major psychotic episodes, my psychiatrist, unsure how finally…