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Lost In The City

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They found it naught however as it was lost at metro stops, canceled appointments and in ever dimming light that failed to reflect what was instead of what could have been.

Floating Just Floating

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He didn't know why he kept writing. There was no reason to write. People ceased reading. They played video games. They watched Netflix. They walked down crowded city streets staring at smartphones. He was sustained in some weird way by the momentum of writing. As if the…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 32

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—You know, Angelique, said Elaine Aster, dabbing her lips with a napkin, I’ve opened a new gallery in Paris.

how it felt to learn it would rain where you were.

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and that you once had / still sometimes sold savory pies out the side of a truck at renaissance fairs alongside your mum with her fake braid in a wrong color wrapped round her head. & you called the sky 'corrugated' or 'promising as a line of chorus g

Molly

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Molly stared at the woman behind the desk with a headset attached to her head, and sighed.

i am so fucking unsold

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i am wire i am wiredi am soaking fucking tiredi am sorry i am coldi am so fucking unsoldi am endlessi am statici am past lost time fanatici am wounded i am seethingi am bothered angry leaving.i am metal i am wateri am sister fucking daughteri am nothing i am lazyi am…

Green Dots

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"It just makes sense to be nice to everything that lives."--Aurora AksnesLike Aurora, my favorite color is moss green. Anything else is a lie told to throw you off the scent. You will abandon her. Just like you will abandon me. Green. We were walking…

Notebook (excerpt)

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I try as much as I can to write but only in as much as you believe―am I successful.

before i lived in the sky

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i built a house in the trees before i lived in the sky

SHAME

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My people rested naked sandwiches on the arms of chairs, and always had an open saucer with half melted butter, a block of Velveeta cheese in the freezer, an open rice cooker.

Hobos: Paris vs. San Francisco

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French pee runs stronger, less minty. In France the world' a pissoir.

cell

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xxx

Testament Part 3 of 6

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Against that, this testament, scratched/ with misshapen styluses, made/ from memory by unskilled hands,/ with a pallid memory of ink.

Martin

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He'd sit or stand, as if this was common to see: in the street walking by, such a man.

from Abel, to a reproachful correspondent

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when you betrayed the vain ambition of my death,/I did not complain.

'My Mother Was My Sister' — Rejection Letter to a Young Writer (Memoir)

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When I was 10 or 11, some people thought that my father was my grandfather, that my brother was my father, and that my mother was my sister!

Mezzanine

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I am i said pursued by the feeling of being watched.You are she said -- by yourself. As in a dream, a dream you know you're dreaming. Which changes nothing.We are she said watching from the mezzanine, half-above, at once a part and apart.

A Little Peace

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One night we were invited out for dinner, and we got into a knock-down, drag-out that afternoon. My wife got so angry I had to hold her down on the bed.

The Meaning of Salvation

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I descend to my grave / where I will unbend / until the Coming of Christ

untitled

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I am a sunflower. I turn my yellow and black face, bruised, to the sun, hoping its light will heal me. With my eyes closed I can see my stamen, veins in my eyelids, bulbous where they intersect. The sun feeds…

I Think You Know That

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you've swallowed a whale bone and not a whole chicken. It's not about being surrounded by very nice stuff. We always thought there was much, much more than haunted walls inside cold castles. People connect the dots like collecting stamps. Things get…

Letting Go

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Jerrod's lips and tongue were like slabs of bologna someone shook in Kirsten’s face as she hit the turn signal. Kirsten was proud of herself. She'd been taking it well and she was pretty sure her real feelings weren’t poking through.

Ah, the Trouble (Has Finally Arrived)

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with all these little battle worn pieces of history surrounding us all the time is that they don't really make up for the terrible news of just now. Those people showed us what they showed us. Good for them.We're the direct explosion of their…

Machine-Gunning Butterflies

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I was making good bread as a New York studio musician and jingle writer, anonymous back-room jobs.

Splinter Off

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When we lived in the attic we were make-believe.

Fire

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I like burning lavender on glowing charcoal and dancing hard, thinking about long futures and deep moments. I want to cry and then scream and I don't feel like cleaning up. If I can keep a rhythm going long enough,I think I can build…

A New Thing

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I am trying very hard to rhyme, and trying very hard not to.

ER Chronicles (1)

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Thank christ for feminst theory and fat good natured shrinks and tall men who stand guard over me with real guns, real bullets.

Paradise

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From the rumple of pre-dawn Queens, sure South on 95, to almost Savannah by dark; still cold, but we’re full of what’s coming:

Visitation

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We sat up in bed. It's ‪two o'clock‬ in the morning. Blinding circular flashlight beams probe through the half pulled shades. Magnified black silhouettes of men's torsos lumber back and forth in the yard. We are in a fishbowl and being invaded.