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Together in Tuscany

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Here comes the bus. It’s going to Tuscany and is full of pronouns: he, she, me, you, it, them, us, we, and you again.

Secure Children

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Overheard from the back seat of car:

Friends Love

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She darted out of her shadow, deftly she maneuvers through the tables and chairs and their eyes follow her.

Canary House

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The items were not selected. The people were not forced to choose, with tears and a suffocating feeling.

Ready for Me

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‘Your writing is terrible,’ she said triumphantly, and there was silence. I wanted to say, no Tara, that’s too much, he needs this – working terrible jobs for years, forever, always feeling the discrepancy between his middle-class childhood and his hand-

Axes

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You think about the first time you saw an axe

The River Where His Lover Lay

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“He put his stuff down—sunglasses, lotion and so forth—and I noticed there’s a little notebook that he didn’t have before.‘What’s that?’” I asked, and he said ‘Nothing.’”

Like 37 Hiroshima Bombs

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Once in a while I have the time of my life / in this god-forsaken Earth:

(melody) floating inside an f

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Like the miserable sledgehammer I am, with no adjective in place to praise your moon, you are a hole well-worn into my favorite rock. I have only been able to reinvent this wronged language, in which being moved by…

Better Spent Time

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there is a tunnel / between your skin and the ground / for kisses to crawl

The Scholiasts

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It was already 3:30 PM. Where had all the time gone? Linda looked up from her computer monitor over at Carlos, who had his face intently pointed at his. "We have to go soon," she said. "We want to avoid rush hour traffic.""Where did we put the address?" Carlos answered, not…

Thirteen Ways of Looking at Blackbeard

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Across the placid sea/The only moving ship/ Was eyed by Blackbeard

'Shit-Stained Underwear' by Dick Cheney & the Fucking Losers

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"We run a family show, here — Christ! We play Juice Newton. We play Christopher Cross."

Leox

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Whoever came up with the term kismet is an absolute moron. There isn't a single reason, or word, that can describe what exactly my brain has concocted in the face of him. No, kismet isn't what makes it happen. It's my own stupidity..

The Unsocialists

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and we’ll have dinner with the head of the Swollen Artists Club and I’ll keep my mouth tied shut with my own tongue

Mike's Confession in the Basement to Being Allergic to Balls

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He arched an eyebrow.  He was "thinking" — a tricky thing to do, when you never read, even the newspaper.

Smooth Criminal

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In an early scene in Marvel's 2015 movie Ant-Man, the film's protagonist, Scott Lang, a convicted felon and former burglar, is summoned to his boss Dale's office at Baskin-Robbins."Three years at San Quentin, huh?" says Dale."You found out," Scott replies."Baskin-Robbins…

Meaning of Life # 18

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To hell with the moon!

The Tote Bag Song

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You can ask so many questions Of what’s it all about You can empty out the closets And roll the mothballs out But no one has the answers It’s all a mystery There’s a bigger picture But it’s really hard to see

Dial Tone

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I am asking for something as simple as water. In an oak tree, weeping, a child climbed too high. Tears that the barkstain will never wash clear. O love. We ask far too much when we fall. In a momentary lapsus, the words…

en/core

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(vogued.)

Wanting to forget

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I do not want to know what it looks like when a society walks off a cliff's edge,

Chapter 15: An Introduction to Regression

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My mouth is orange rind and whiskey, my tongue a cocktail cherry.

Black Eyes, Blue Tears, and Dark Thoughts

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At five a family relative took my life away from me and no one cared

This Can't Be True, But I Remember It

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She calls me by my name. She says I am her daughter.

Anise Fish and Colin behind the glass

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“What is the sickness that you have?” Colin behind the glass wondered. “Too much world,” said Anise Fish. “We have that in common.”

The Squirm

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[DON'T FORGET TO PARTY!]

Jump Jackson and the Second Easter Mystery

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Knowing this is too long for here I won't be crushed or enraged if no one has the time to read it. Also, it's not fiction.

Thanksgiving Carnage

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The game is set, thirty pound gobbler at the center; brined, browned, and buttered to perfection. The players take their places around the table: Reagan’s_Disciple and BraBurner38 sit at the head seats, eyeballing each other over a fizzing bottle of dom

The Toilers

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In the black not dead of night, she gathers them; slowly,diligently placing the cansand bottles into two large plasticbags strung across a long piece of wood; this is her money work. She is small, but her bodyhas the choreography down:sift, search, lift,…