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My Thursday head belonged to a former Miss Brazil named Rita.
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Hope wakes starving/
in the storm,/
to off and hunt.
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This is what my summer has come to: me, out of a job, aimlessly driving around the city looking for places to write, places to read, places to occupy my time.
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Wound up taking smiling lessons
Six days in a row
But they didn’t take
All the people in my class
They were so fake
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His hands fumble over my curves like he’s petting his golden retriever. He wears in inexperience on his face like I wear my mascara.
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Gary wrote in beautiful brevity of this most fabled story told with strings.
Of it's breathtaking majesty and boundless power.
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into the Zone of Avoidance gazes sink/
―and why not? a black hole at the heart of it,/gravity attracts even our vision when/
we lift our gazes . . .
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She really was a beautiful skankFeral coated and dusted with sugarAn inked up divining rodTelling us on earth what God thinks
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This is a very impromptu piece written at two in the morning based on a prompt from Meg Pokrass, who insisted the following words be used: fussyhairybloomingslipperyflutterdamppaleweedsyanking “Maxfuss” was his password, which was appropriate,…
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...the teeth she began to lose went under her pillow, though no money ever appeared. She could not bear to throw them away and finally deposited them in her jewelry box next to the string of seed pearls she received on the morning of her confirmation.
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All are words, so quickly they decay, into silence, spaces that persist, amnesias singing of day. A world without perversityis a world of death,each measure of dissent a measure of applause. Fury signifies you; nothing is everything. Your ascendancy of eyes, in pursuit of…
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The next morning Grandpa said the body was gone, no one explained to him the situation, when he asked about her they all simply said, “Scarltanua”.
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The convalescent home's common areas are surprisingly well-appointed, given the neighborhood, which makes his actual living quarters that much more dismaying. Poorly lit, dusty, stifling, the room reeks of socks worn for weeks on end. My nostrils burn, and my eyes…
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We were talking in the dark in my room. He lay on a mattress on the floor. He came for a sleepover.
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Their raging energy felt like a unified force that could catapult itself in any direction at a second’s notice, like a heat-seeking missile targeting the next warm body.
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As being ebbs it deepens. The mind grows truant. We inhabit a permanent Saturday.
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"Ben! Ben!" yelled Monique. "Did you hear me?"
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Girolamo Dente was nodding off in his studio at Découvrir Art when he heard the alarm.
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There was a small slanted hole through the edge of the door, and another one in the door frame. She pushed the door closed to check. The holes matched up.
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Frank was happy to leave the art show and take the train back to SoHo.
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On shingle of seashells &
Bullet shells,
Ghosts drift along the shore
Of the Black Sea.
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—Michiko, are you allergic to cats?
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There is a great deal of hard-edge painted on eyeliner gadding about. Often it is teamed with platinum blonde hair that is edging toward the purple-grey discount home bleaching kit shades, and single-hair width eyebrows, but once it was THE look and we kn
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Why do men become explorers? he asked. Because they want to cannibalize the unknown; to leave the chemicals, the furniture (and, yes, the shrew) behind; to make their way hi ho into the brush, whose weeds and lianas remain empty of the exhortations of Jesus Christ, whose…
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Mother told me that I would go to the moon. But she did not tell me that on Diwali night, the moon hid himself on the other side of the sky.
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The worm was stabbed where two rivers branch:/ the thing that would slay was slain.
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He didn’t even have the energy to tell me to tie her up when he got home.
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Naked, laughing hard, laughing full into the moonlit void, she stepped out from the stone
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