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Because

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Before the Door

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You just can’t believe your key / won’t open the front door anymore.

Stranger and the green gloves

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tea

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what a mess

Survivor

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The tubing unwound in her hands, unreeling like a garden hose... it wasn't always that easy...

The Women

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I crawl under a table in the kitchen and listen to the women talk.

Redux

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I peeled his tongue, word by contemptuous word, until he had nothing left but a scrappy shred of muscle flapping in his empty head...

Three Stories Of You

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There's a story of you who says to go on, to walk the room, to pretend to contemplate. Promises that if you lift your hand your head will follow. Assures you when your bones reignite there will be day, there will be night, and you'll know which is which. Don't worry about…

Europe, 1960

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The painting was on loan from a gallery in Chicago. We stood there connecting the dots.

The Note

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... “All power is just behind your belly. Look. Knot of belt – just in front of navel – navel is eye of chi.” ...

KADDISH

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My mother was a child of the death camps, passed her adolescence there. Survived.

Summer Girl

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You’re bro­ken. Your eyes don’t see quite right, and your hands don’t feel quick enough. I love you any­way.

The Last Story

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The serious writer always knew there would be a last story but when the time came, he felt ill-prepared.

17 Days

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Sometimes, under the gauze and yellow salves, I glimpse you...

Crocodilian

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it ate her and then I was next in line

On the Way to Your First AA Meeting

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The memory of thinking in some other language

A Bar In Time

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Nights like this don’t happen often, nights when I wander the streets of an unknown village, dark and quiet streets that offer little in the way of diversion.

The Hair and The Whore

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Every time they said Gloria I turned around but of course they meant Gloria Steinem.

I Must Slip The Batman a Fin

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The Batman says it's his birthday. I take him at his word.

Story for Ned's Edit

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Two nights before his heart burst its strings near sundown Shabbat, we met at my house to wait for paint to dry. We could make an evening of that.

My Children in Times New Roman

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This test should not be a riddle, it's a simple yes/no. The answer should settle curiosity with an image. One line or two, plus or minus. I say something like this, and the customer service rep asks me to hold.Thing is, I know the answer. I'm moody. My breasts feel like…

Heaps ain’t Enough

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"And I listened, too, sitting at the table with him with my palms on my chin and my fingers on my face ‘cause I love listening to my man talking about why he loves me."

Telephone

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It had been so long since the telephone had rung, he’d forgotten the sound.

Son of Uncle Sam

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He’s hooked on the pinball / excitements of adolescence

Bloodless

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You're nothing. You're wallpaper. You're carpet.

Fat Tuesday

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She likes his smile and Cajun accent, his earring and dangerous ink.

Stalling

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My son, six, is practicing dying.

I Want to Sing To You

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Love is always going to be all even when all else is floating to the burning ground.

Miss

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On Saturday mornings, by noon, the delivery car comes from Boston and unloads fresh bread and sandwiches, pork ribs and ground pork stuffed inside of breads and buns and banana leaves, bean shakes, and sticky rice desserts.

Disappearing Ink

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They didn’t run out of each other’s ink.