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Can't Sleep But Very Tired

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I repeated your name like a mantra / and vomited black bile in the sink. / Some Buddhist monk told me / if I recite it ten thousand times / you will be mine.

The Days, the Weeks

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Next morning the thought crosses my mind of snapping Mom’s neck, making sure she’s dead, and then running down to the sea to drown myself.

tweaker

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my molars are dancing, tekka-tekking to the strung-out paint can groove of my heart.

The End.

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Liz lies in bed next to a stranger. He is snoring softly, and she turns her head toward him, looking at his eyelids flutter as he enters REM sleep. He stirs and rolls over on his side away from her. As he does so, he pulls part of the comforter with him, exposing her…

Lyz & Duncan

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This morning, my band mates discussed their relationship deal breakers.

happy hour

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I remember seeing five young losers standing outside this bar, smoking cigarettes in their baggy shorts and flip-flops, giving the occasional high-fives. They weren’t even eating their calzone, and I was getting upset about it. (I hadn’t eaten the whole

I Heard You Like the Back Seat Too, Honey: Song

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They met at a bar They didn’t get far They went to her car Then back to the bar He played guitar She was a rock star They met at a bar They didn’t get far Well, I heard you liked the back seat too, Honey I heard that you liked to h

Trumping the Ground Zero Mosque

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My third Rule of Success—and I may not have these in exactly the right order–is always get a pre-nup!

egg

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...

Context and Confessional Poetry

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I like babies and little kids, more than some people but goddamn, children's laughter out of nowhere (in the night, when you're not expecting it) is creepy. I don't like slugs smeared like nightmare goo on my summer-bare feet, I could do without them in …

One Last Word

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Almost 24 hours ago in Pakistan, Osama Bin Laden was sleeping just as he had slept every night for the hundreds of days prior; comfortable in a million dollar compound with his son and advisors around him...

Unkilled Jeff

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"Oh — what is this 'work' thing the philosophers speak of" sort of thing.

Waiting for Lunch

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The banality of his own state of boredom, a luxury to be satiated with violence, to hack with an axe the exposed neck of his friend.

En Pointe

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Her gaunt arms softly rose, sweeping in front of her with movements that were hesitant at first but, as the music that only she could hear took her in its grip, became graceful and assured.

porcelain

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And then, like all those nights before, she just fell asleep seducing me.

At the Jr. Algonquin Roundtable

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“He didn’t finish ‘The Witchcraft of Salem Village,’” Scooter says, tattling on his little brother. I’m projecting him to be a first-round draft pick by the National Security Agency in about ten years.

And So It Begins

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Kelly looked at her screen. Did she really just type that? Is she really going that cliche? Apparently so. She sighed. "Well I can't erase it for fear of losing words so I might as well just go with it."

Call Me Rust

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Call me anything but Ishmael. Call me Enamel.

Melodies with an Octopus

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The supervisor, sensing the fear in me, pats my hand and says "Never you mind! This is normal in the tomato. Every few days we rile up, make sauce, and regrow again. Have you ever been in spaghetti sauce before?"

Requiem for a Laptop

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I don’t understand what happened. I keep pushing your buttons but you won’t do anything. You just lie there, cold and dead, staring back at me without any light and I feel like I’m going to cry.

La lengua

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I have one, but I want another, A little greedy perhaps. She's my obsession, my indiscretion, My little judgment lapse.

Music in Berkeley

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There I saw a woman with dyed long red hair Dressed all in furs and a short tight skirt Way too young for her age And she was banging a tampon on her leg At the performance of Ramblin Jack Eliot And no one got up to throw red wine on her Ful

It Began With The Waffles

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It began with the waffles, well first there were the potholders, but really the problem was the waffles. I don't even think she knew she was making waffles; much less that she had lost her potholders in the trash can the day before. But nonetheless the real issue here was…

The Deli Worker

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This is the story of my friend, Gil

A Few Images Illuminating the Difficulty of Being a Young, Talentless Writer in Manila

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A ten-ton bus with ill-manners going slow

Will Your Relationship Survive the Holidays?

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For eight years I have been living with a man named Darren Fletcher, who I will refer to as “Bud” to preserve his anonymity.

The Privileged, The Righteous, The Bored

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I saw you, old man, in the desertof iron and copper and cold.No sorrow there to subvert,your eyes repulsed by the gold,examine the joy of an apple,ponder the despair of a peach.The words you wish to unravelare words beyond limits of speech.I can tell you hide a strong…

My Drifter Doppelganger

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Looming ahead was another polite suburban party at which, after a couple of pops, I'd say something that embarrasses my wife in front of her girlfriends. Or so she claims.

Candle Smoke Wishes

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“The minute I stopped wondering about the meaning of life is when I finally started enjoying life.”

Cherry of Menloves

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Miranda laughed. The cream of the retail industry laughed...