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There was a time when I washed my dishes with a stray cat who spoke French. I won't go into all the details of what led the bilingual feline into my kitchen, or how he came to take the plunge into an abyss of soap and grease, cheese-encrusted plates, and…
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134711
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Rain pours down in a world transformedthrough thunder. The storm rages, night takes on a weight, and everyone hides, most from habit, some from fear. She stands there, soaked and beautiful, responding to the…
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103621
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What went racing through my mind as Lynda was telling me about the farmer she was seeing out in Western Illinois with his 12 inch dick? She was only 5’2”. “It’s so big I can barely get it all in me,” she said, with her mouth part way open. That old look
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125421
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It’s the longing from another life inside that pulls me along by the fine hairs below my navel (at the exposed midriff) and by the short blonde hair at my neck, and by the dense bunch between my legs, if you can imagine. It’s the longing of the love I’v
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156221
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They were really big, a lot larger and taller and stronger than he was. Sometimes they were holding him, all of him, high up in the air. Sometimes they would have him crawl in front of them. Often they put him into some form of holding cell.
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128511
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I am tripping on poetry.
Purple ink drips from my eyes like ergot of rye.
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159121
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Thirty years later – and all the years in between – Alan Walton would remember how insidious it was, the anger that started that night with Quinton Harris, fifteen years old and the undisputed leader of the troop, and spread like a virus to the other boys
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*Must have excellent communication skills and be able to talk pretty good.
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139510
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I AM A FIRE SWAN!
THIS IS MY QUILT!
YOU ARE MY QUEEN!
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110521
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I dreamt my legs were stirring the air up behind your back, as you lay between my thighs. Stirring the air repetitively, like a sea anemone stirring the water to feed the soul, the hunger between the legs and arms, for new life.
Stirring up the salt
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183130
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They sprinkled me in the holes of Auburn Maine. They covered me in grain, and salmon colored sand. My shell had swirls of chartreuse, and chocolate painted on it. I was made from glass and Gods left eye. Picked and sorted through, we all landed into a tiny paper bag…
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The chipping sound started around the time Susannah reached puberty. Not all at once, it was just now and then at first.“What's that noise?” she'd say, and everyone would cock their heads to listen. Her mother eventually took her to the doctor. He said it…
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102821
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A raininess envelops you already in the womb. The water that began in the mouth a generation before you, away from any explanation, reason, or need for speech, and now seeks out the same dear lovable blood in you as those who came before you – these are
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138311
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I hand one of them the octopus and run out of the room.
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When we started plans for the party, none of us wanted Larry to die, most of all Larry himself.
Actually, when we first started plans for the party, Larry wasn’t dying.
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177921
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Naomi saw an ad in one of those slick circulars that came in the mail. ' Wigs by Paula."
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. . . nor did mine eye apologize.
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180221
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People crawling up out of the chimney, then onto the roof, then sliding down it and off over the edge disappearing from view.
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131830
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There was something about the boy that made me uneasy. Maybe it was the reverse widow's peak on his forehead or the way he wiped away his snot with the back of his hand. It could have been his red flannel shirt that reminded me of the hillbillies from the mountain…
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108731
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We bring words together and set them up on blind dates. Watch them build a history together, get married and fight together. Make offspring syllables cradled warm in cribs of punctuation. Phonemes squeezed into existence by two parenthesis. Words…
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121911
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The ride home after Basketball and a little beer; That's when the best poems happen. Poems pin-prick sharp Puncturing through dulled Senses while streetlamps pass Overhead. They find their way inside you But they don't stick. Poems left back somewhere On the…
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199431
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Mr. Lowell knelt down and put his face in his hands, his knees quickly covered in blood. Sobs.
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187611
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We brought flowers for our dead lovers
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These people, what is it with them? Is this who we’ve become?
They left their great need behind when they were taken out of the country. They seem to live without thought of that blood. They do not respond to anything that calls to it. They seem sha
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127511
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Performed October 21-22, Gallery 263, Cambridge, Mass. Kathy-Ann Hart, the Hostess; Ryan Wenke, Ubu; Tyler Catanella, Alfred Jarry; the author--technician.
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139811
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I stepped down on what looked like a mouse
Bloody and lifeless outside of our house.
I took bag in hand and prepared to grab it
When I realized the thing was the head of a rabbit!
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136011
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It's called the Knee Defender. But I prefer to think of it as the Schmuck Identifier.
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115620
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“I believe it is some form of primitive recreation with a board and wheels,” the one and a half eyed orange blob said with an Australian accent.
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Sometimes, when possessed by a craving for an ornate day
my very thinking becomes florid, cursive, prone to rolling my vowels – dotting my little I’s with a love heart, like an idiot who rows out in a storm.
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190221
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ZaSu played wingwoman to Gale Storm, who played herself, and quite well I might add–she had herself down pat! But I found ZaSu as second fiddle to be, curiously enough, more alluring than the first chair.
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