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Sagittarius (Nov.22 – Dec. 21)
Listen to the voices
inside your head.
They speak to you
for a reason.
Now is not the time for debate.
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I Buchanan Street; god strums a cheap guitar. Vaginas grow wet at clashing chords. The primitive civilised. From the city square I sense false profits, zigzag philosophies. The familiar falls…
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109245
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I sat at
the vast graveyard
of broken hearts
on the mending fence
of wonderment
unsealing the silence
of the wounds
I began to put the pieces
together
like a puzzle against
forgetting
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She stiffens and blusters and roars
Not like a storm,
Not like a lion.
Like a badger, caught in the steel jaws of a trap.
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A performance is a series of situations. Each situation defines the characters that are in it.
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A Texas man was recently arrested for failing to return a GED study guide to his local public library. He'd kept it out for three years. This is the kind of news story that brings joy to a librarian's heart.The library where I work just installed a…
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106054
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I don't have to show you how to fly. I don't even know who you are still possibly trying to be in this crazy grounded world. But the words make us family. I can't help that or what you might do with that public tweet tweet…
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I wrote this piece after I told the originator of the youtube video "Mieders Alpine Coaster" by David Jellis how I felt watching it.
I admitted I was a voyeur not a participant, but that his video fascinated me to the point that I needed to write ab
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soft voices singing somewhere in the black back of
rising tensions crashing with the waves...
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I am a 33 year old drag queen, and I frequently confuse my dreams with reality. Each morning, I awake to a research project: what has actually occurred, and what was a dream? Today I woke up believing I'd lost a pound, so I weighed myself, and I was right.…
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Left by a melting snowbank: Cup lids, pine needles, a cairn of dog shit, And the grey soggy shape Of an eyeless winter bird. His breast is an old accordion Gone to rot in an old…
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I, like Sara, am the last of my kind still activated. I am a Machine of Loving Grace.
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Thankfully I don't have to share my Jim Beam with the cat.
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her parents were gone they sat on the love seat side by side saying nothing the longest time
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I look for the boy we met inside the club, the one who claimed he loved playing with matches, setting fire to churches. I spot him smoking a cigarette, standing so cool against the side of the club, like he might be the nephew of some Viking guitarist hun
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130954
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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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If you can imagine a ghost taking a shower then you can imagine the kind of emotion I have in mind.
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There is a whisper in the shadows
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“What the hell was that?
Is that your take on
The Deer Hunter?”
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I was just sitting in the corner, stirring my stories with a straw that sucked characters out of bars.
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The last time Cyrus rode in a train’s passenger car, he came home a dead man.
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awoke in confusion, fear and hurt never seen before that day a year past
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First off, don't worry about the marriage. It ain't gonna last. But don't worry. People will drive you nuts with that tiresome old chestnut, “there's more than one fish in the sea.” Thing is, they're right. Listen. I'm not talking salmon and sea bream…
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Bare feet on hardwood floor
Twists into circles
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Out the window is an empty birdbath, dry flaky concrete ring, no birds.
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The night before leaving, we have French toast and red wine in Matthew's kitchen, our packs and sleeping bags and tents surrounding us, looming like golems. Because we're nervous, and a little drunk, the conversation inevitably turns to grammar. "I'm sure I learned…
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["This is not a snippet of text. This is only a test."]
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