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Bullets and cars can kill in the cityThe weather doesn't feel rightIt was hot yesterday.And has now gotten coolerThe wind blows heavy,And it's rainingThe sky has turned greenAs people sit down to hearThe news reports on the radioThe tornado might hit us,Everyone seems to…
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"Hell - whoa?"
"Larry, it's Margot. Is that you?"
"Yeth."
"Why are you talking like that?"
"Ah bit off the tip of my ton."
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100850
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Bitter the sun when it is in Hades
High fans meaning nothing keep the heat down
but the nitre keeps burning
So glows the gloss and high sheen on the skin
Foreheads exhibit thought
though the eyes are crossed
and at night, butterflies i
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it seemed odd
from even the
first few seconds.
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I came down with polio on September 15, 1953, a mild, smoky day drawing close to autumn outside of Chicago — which also happened to be the exact date of my parents' twenty-first wedding anniversary. Only six months later the Salk vaccine was already b
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I keep my life very ordered. Order for me is security. I am sure of some things. Like the fact I work five nights a week, and sleep during the day.
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The Phoenix Asks the Turtle-Dove if He Can Get a Drop of Water: After Shakespeare — In the style of Ted Hughes Let the bugling bird come up that burst a big loud lay, On the solitary tree of old Arabia (sound its thunder!):…
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And without further ado, The Author.
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...the loving and very painful hurt of our daily sustenance
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North of Los Angeles - 210 FreewayWhen Central Dispatch's Gate bot mistakenly set Mongo down in the middle of present day rush hour instead of his cave home in prehistoric Rudy Valley, traffic was, as usual, gridlocked in all directions; a woman in an SUV was on her cell…
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Green Ridge, Missouri features a horseshoe pit on the town square and not one but two full-time village idiots.
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Everything needs context, otherwise reality would be nothing more than stardust with a spark.
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The wind blows off the ocean soft and cool. I close my eyes in hopes to strengthen my sense of touch. A bit of sand wriggles through my teeth; crunchy and salty like spoiled oven-roasted peanuts. I imagine the air would smell like low tide if it wasn't constantly…
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I was at the doctor’s office
They had a poster of the Mona Lisa
and the caption underneath it read:
“Why is this woman smiling?”
Well, it wasn’t because she was over 50
and had yearly mammograms
It was because she was 20 something
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You think about bears and it gives you a headache? Don’t give them that power.
You see bears and it gives you a headache? Don’t run. Don’t walk but don’t run.
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But she knew what she would find. She knew it all the moment she felt the sticky fingerprints behind the slat of her old oak slay bed. The fingerprints that would only be left from a person grabbing it from behind their head. The fingerprints that she
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It began not so innocently
with voyeuristic tendencies.
the sound of concrete
and confetti in the night.
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There was the small wooden structure near the base of the mountain. It had weathered many storms and its walls talked about the scars of this. In the hills to the west various cries came out from feral animals that seemed to go linger that autumn. But it had been a…
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Is any person is worthy of the kind of ache?
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Thérèse Defarge felt the first drop around ten.
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I like him. I really, really like him in a way that I don’t like guys, not anymore, not after all the dirty lies into get in my pants, the dirtier lies to get out of them later, the indignities and the humiliations and the disappointments.
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I never could run properly. It’s kinda hard when you’ve got scales all over your body and a big fat tail that gets in the way.
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The highway stretches out in front of me, a black ribbon winding into the future; a collapsing probability of possibility connecting me with the past and through it to the future.
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I don’t like long walks on the beach
Or sand between my toes
Jellyfish stinging my butt
Saltwater up my nose
I don’t like long lingering glances
But I sure like fancy pantses
And yes, a bum without a bottle
Is like a car without a throttl
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Dawn is a grey mass, what is left of the night's chill slips between my t-shirt and belly skin. Somewhere else you once wrote that being loved when you don't love in return equals rape.
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Double, double oil and trouble;
Spill and burn and caldron bubble. Back and forth make strong the stride. Even now pace the pride. Stepping stones that dot the slough make way for the clean up crew. I promise safe crossing. Straight…
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My stepmother called me an amoral virgin during our latest "disagreement."
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“Goodnight,” he said before leaving the room and shutting his bedroom door behind him. She stood in the kitchen alone now, a shot of vodka poured into a shot glass, and a bottle of coke ready to swig afterwards. This didn't make her an alcoholic…
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