My future husband is wondering why I'm "taking your crap" when I'm excellent at standing up to his. He's cooking dinner in the stylish two story home he owns and wishing he had someone to share it with, a blue eyed blonde, but only if she's me.

And what about: there's this signature dessert at the restaurant where you are eating and it is called DEATH BY CHOCOLATE? And you know it is, because you've had it, and wow.

You compare the brightly-colored wires sprouting from the bandage wrapped around your stepson's head to a bouquet of flowers. The tech sits in a chair next to Brett's hospital bed and holds up line drawings of common objects: cats, boats, skyscrapers,…

The old hate the young. Robe exposed monks do not Hate mosquitoes. It is one. It is one hand. It is on. Mountains don't hate sky. The rich hate the poor. The poor hate the rich. The parade of scholars hate the …

Friday night, a bar downtown, beneath the swirling dots of disco lights, seated at a table by the door, I come across a Cheerleader from my high school days, having a Martini with the Quarterback she married. Even in forgiving light, …

Of course, no one can control what goes on in an elevator.

1. Walking here with you on these narrow strands of clean air & imagination

I’m at the kitchen sink washing down pills when they bump up my driveway in a blue Toyota pick up, its bed eaten through with rust so bad I can see past the holes in the body to the frame.

"Penning a slight of tongue well versed or worse, a salacious lie..."

You look at people and despise them all.

I’d been listening to the radio. Tornado watch! Heading this way! 75 miles per hour! I don’t like to alarm the guests; a false alarm to these people could cost my job, but so could ignoring real danger.

Eat me so I can sink in your mouth, my paper fraying along the sharp topography of your tongue, lodging in the holes where your teeth used to be. There, I will storm an infection until your mouth inks my words.

The gate squeaked, the gravel shuffled and the letterbox clattered as February 14th's mail cascaded to the ground.

I. When I was young, my best friend was only three inches high. He was chubby, always cheerful, and very funny. He didn't start out as anything much. I always imagined he came into being in a small factory, in China, at the mercy of two small, yellow hands and a …

Erwin came into the kitchen through the back door and went straight to the sink to clean up. Black mud and dried blood crusted his fingertips and caked the callused whorls of his knuckles.  He used the round of strong-smelling soap he kept for…