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“You have no idea what your lives will be like if you can get out of the ‘hood. You could be driving Volvos, eating Tuscan cuisine, getting MacArthur ‘genius’ grants!”
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I'm writing our initials in black sharpie on the tunnel wall. There's already people who have come before me, hundreds of pairs of Qs and As and hearts in the middle, through a small hole in the brick I can hear the French accents, spinning through, a reminder that I am…
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while the fat stars stand out in the cobalt night.
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To understand how and when things have gone wrong, it works best to proceed from the beginning and put them in order.
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There was something about her eyes that he couldn't shake.
He stood in line, waiting for his chicken finger tenders and one large size 32 oz. cola. No salad (a childhood aversion he had never abandoned), and no mashed potatoes. Friday night and the eve
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I'd wear my pajamas too, fitting for the big sleep
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I threw my cards on the table. The jerk was playing his classical records again. I could hear that lousy music a mile away and he was the kind of kid that makes your skin crawl. But he had a CD sound system and it was up loud this time so that the house
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From decade to decade, editorial opinion swings and sways as to whether the fault of volubility resides chiefly with the practitioner or with the lawless company he keeps.
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But others maintained that Billy Navins was a mad dog that needed to be put down and were just as glad that Lester was around to do it. " Call it a mercy killing," someone said. " Put the poor bastard out of his misery, didn't he ?"
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And if I lived a thousand lives...
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She lets go and it slides back too slowly.
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There are many forms of impossible love. For example when the rain soaked streets are littered with yellow leaves.When a fine mist hangs in the air, and it is twilight and you are not here
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I'd had way too many drinks. My legs were quivering. Everyone had gathered there in the kitchen, my sleek and attractive ex-wife the center of attention, all the men fucking drooling over her. Seems she was a yoga queen now, a vegan princess, a dancer somewhere. She…
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Retired cantor Janice Woltag Cohen just turned 50. We Boomers all know what that means. It's Colonoscopy Time!Colonoscopy! That fabulous 50th birthday present you give to yourself. Yes, it's yucky. But it's absolutely necessary. (It could save your life.)As kids…
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The world is beginning to lose what little hair it has left. Follicles litter the streets and scrape along merrily in the wind like one last turn of the world defying knob of being and knowing. But the thing I want to say here is how beautiful…
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the far-flung Turner boys and their broods descended upon Pemberton like locusts
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SapphicsSlumber comes too late to scare awakening; I know, before, there was a life to bind me. I cross the streets instead and watch the rainfall Murmur without ears. It can know no sound but seems…
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Dear Ray Bradbury, yesterday
was my thirteenth birthday, and I could not stop thinking of the
Mennonite girl in the milkwhite bonnet,
the squint of her eye, the twitch of her anxious finger on the trigger,
sudden holes bloomi
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You are nothing but a generic white man with average looks and intelligence, trapped in an indie romantic comedy. You sit in your overstuffed coffeeshop chair, drinking an impossibly befoamed cappuccino, the sleeves of your flannel rolled up to your elbows, mellow synth…
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What we did was walk in on an amazing starfish convention, everyone lazing about, softly frozen against the timeless drooling currents like strange looking wind socks washing up and down with the sun. I am empty, hear me roar in blubbery bluster and…
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nevertheless, this crowd had come up with a universal cure for humanity, and regardless of consequences . . .
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At least, I think it was him. It sure looked like him.
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I grew up in Detroit, and even though I haven't lived there since I was 18, I'm still a Michigander at heart. I'm also a (retired) bankruptcy attorney.You can probably tell where this is going. I own a Detroit municipal bond. It's a sewer bond, which means…
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Desert Storm, an Infrared Dream/Poem by the late David Avidan
On January 17, 1991 I woke up at 02:45 from a neo-surreal dream with a slight not very serious feeling of suffocation a pre-asthma attack instantly stifled with the inhalation of Ventolin an
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What if blood engorging your penis could be the result of emotions other than sex and violence? Wouldn't it be nice if your dick could be used to express the lengths and depths of other feelings?
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Burger King has rekindled Flame, its $4 broiled-meat-scented spray.
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So the subtle shadow settles onto perfect marble
on the floor of the ocean
when the sunlight blooms over space and time
but only in the near future
as it has always been
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Shadows skipped across the bedroom wall at 80 km/hour. It wouldn't be so bad if people wouldn't use their high beams but it's the price you pay for living on a dark highway with low property taxes. “How do you sleep in here?”…
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The warrior would prepare for death by writing a death poem. Sometimes the samurai would begin the ritual and write his poem in blood.
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