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You can't put recycling with regular trash and regular trash with recycling.
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Paid and laid, they leave.
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I peel off my shorts and tee-shirt, step out of my shoes, and crawl into bed. She wakes up then. "Oh, my goodness," she says.
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I greatly enjoyed imagining each wonton was one of my personal enemies and then biting it in half and pretending I could hear it screaming piteously as I chuckled and dragged out the chewing.
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I'm sitting here listening to Nebraska and it's / breaking my heart
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To whoever reads this next--Henry James makes my head hurt.
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1. Everyone disappears.2. Stars map themselves.3. The moon fills her bathtub over and over. You can't watch it for too long or you go mad, shouting, "Just get in, get in!"4. The ghosts of certain broken poets stand under apple trees and lean their hands on the…
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It's as if there are little men inside her head, wielding hammers.
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Conceptio culpa
Nasci pena
Labor vita
Necesse mori
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So I licked the Anise from my fingers.
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142088
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I know now, how she moves without verbs
after you crushed her into the river.
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For those of you with a position cemented firmly to the contrary, I happen to think I have a great face, actually. My face, maybe I talk about my body a lot, but my face is pretty great, really it is.
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the signature of God/
consigning everything/
to the saturating energies of time.
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In the air a shining heart, wet lungs releasing and releasing, your sweet milk head, your pulsating skin. Only an inch separates us. A shimmer of hot air trembles like boiling water above the highway. There are seeds floating in the sky. These things will become other…
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One day we turn a corner, and two fat little doggies spot us and come running up. Oh, they are so glad to see us!
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It is a well-known fact that my wife sleeps around. There. I said it and now everyone knows that I too know about my wife. Let me just tell you this one thing; she has her reasons. You ask me how I know that she has her reasons, but who would know better than…
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Unfinished, deeply flawed stories require the kind of handling you see in movies where a Virus That Will Doom Mankind is disposed of by scientists in hazmat suits.
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He died a printer finding late/
after so much selling himself selling/
a craft that pleased and paid enough
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The skin will stay but you won’t see it,/
camouflaged by creases, tags, and curious/
deposits of renegade fat and pigment.
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I want to be that daring gardener who ploughs up her front yard -- to the horror of the Neighborhood Association.
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A sweet fog rises to the rafters. Inhale.
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INGREDIENTS
--A messy divorce.
--A late spring night in Boston.
DIRECTIONS
1. First, let's agree to call them "Pahkah House Rolls," for the Pahkah House is a luxury Boston hotel. (We'll be returning to New York on the morning train.)
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We lived on the edge of a tiny Iowa town, and picked corn fields were steps away.
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...He steps back from the abyss,
inner eye envisioning the ink sip of a fountain pen,
the hard, hot brain frenzy that sends phrases marching
toward another bridge between oblivion and art.
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Jane watched her mother remove her wedding ring with butter.
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"the rum tasted of hibiscus blossoms"
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In the St. Mark's Bar and Grill romance is a speedy thing, a blurred whir of grope, kiss, connect. The tricky thing is timing: to leave in time for the boozy love of the hour to carry through to full, naked contact. Some succeed of course. Others overstay, hang past the…
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