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May is National Masturbation Month. How do I know? My pal Senior Sex Expert Joan Price is not only vigorously celebrating, but doing everything she can to spread the word.“I'm on it!” I assured her when she told me. “Thanks.”…
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I'll tell you what, Rick,
ten-thousand bucks?
[But] let Detroit go
bankrupt. I'm running
for office for Pete's sake,
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Max sighed. Solving for x was boring, so mind numbingly boring that he didn't notice the flickering blue light hovering in his room. It crackled and popped, growing until a shimmering rectangle stretched from floor to ceiling.A hand pushed out from the rectangle, and a…
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..Sheena's not there to make my morning coffee and the brain cells I feel slowly dying are not expiring because of bad Aussie pop songs.
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He picked up the bottle of gin, looked at it.
"Not a lot left," he said.
"There's enough," she replied. She took the bottle and lifted it to her lips. "Are you ready?" she asked.
"For what?"
"You'll see."
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80021
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The small of her back,
where the downy hair stands upright
like wheat in the summer light.
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102111
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The man was sitting at his makeshift kitchen table. He was forty-five years old. He wore his mortarboard with tassel whenever he left his home. Once inside either a reputable establishment or one generally considered less so, he was sure to take off his m
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“The Boy from Thuringia” is part of a series of stories collectively called The History of Adoption. In it, a middle-aged man sets out rather obsessively to write a comprehensive history of the adopted child. In his attempts to finally begin this im
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an old Black woman, a sequined black cap poised on the left of her crown of black infused gray hair. A gray wool shawl that seemed to perfectly match her hair's color wrapped her all the way down to her hips, where a battered pair of blue jeans rested
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Plus women can be really sexy when their horny and plump with baby envy. If I could make a hard-on I’d like to be around for that.
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Who here of us has not yet caught Advanced to leaden fife, The answer to our waiting What, That answered, “Such is life?” I saw a jelly man go past, Who wobbled in his strife And cried, “No stiffness that won't last …
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96240
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There was always something about the air in the deep south. The summer air. It was always so thick. So heavy. Joey didn't notice. He didn't know any better. He had lived in Savannah all six years of his life. He did remember the one time his father and…
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91121
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Life is a beach, not an enormous ashtry.
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It's cloudy out. So I go to the Assisted Suicide Center on Venice Blvd. It doesn't mean I'm gonna off myself because it's cloudy. There just happens to be a kind of puzzle of clouds in the sky the moment I decide to head over there. I find it fitting, thi
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the bay was littered with corpses
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The mystery is in the barmaid's impersonal stare
It's all there. Recognizable the bottles of Bass Ale
and Crème de Menthe. Glazed oranges piled in a bowl
Two roses in a small clear glass of water
A wide gold bracelet on her arm, halfway
up from
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140010
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I really only started reading books after the folks left. Right away I thought maybe I should have a system for it, so I go alphabetically by author, one book by one author. The first time around I was reading the books everyone knows, so when I was in th
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"So" he started, which troubled me enough to turn back around and make such focused eye contact that I did not even notice his glass was again full, "you wanted to talk?"
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The barista with the fake rainbow nails and amazing cleft. . . .
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Sweet Tooth needed a little snack, so he ambled on down the hall to the kitchen. He figured to make one of his patented peanut butter, potato chip, tangerine, raisin, and banana sandwiches because those things just always hit the spot. Unfortunately, when he tugged the…
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Then they made him stay after school and met with his parents. Scott was sent outside to play in an empty playground. He didn’t feel like playing. He sat on the steps outside the classroom and listened to his Dad shouting through the plastic walls.
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Kiln dried mummies, landscape of once were alpacas. / Now all the wool is farmed in Alva
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About 10 years ago is when it started. I was 14, sitting at Pop's knee, listening to his stories, and Mom came in crying. She could hardly get words out.
I think that day was the last time I felt the sun.
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The fog drifted in, wreathing the woman in undulate shadows as kleigs danced in wind and ships moaned. Souchet had come through the Barrio Chino to stand on the pier at the hour when dead cease their ramblings and sleep.…
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It was in his teeth. A blackness, a subscription to an outsideness, a painful contraction of burnt out trees scattered there among sand drifts and tidal debris. His face, lightly weathered and troubled, a tightness built into eyes of thought and separation. His arms, strong…
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Opportunity, says Webster, is a, "favorable juncture of circumstances." In my Oxford book of quotations, there are seven famous lines about opportunity. Seven – that’s it! There are twenty-seven regarding failure. Seems it's been easier for the great
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While searching for wildflowers along an old logging path bordering a ravine, I heard voices. “Damn, Clete. Where are we?” “I think you didn't make the goddamn turn, Mert, you idiot.” I looked over the edge of the ravine beside my path.…
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round & round
this empty block
again & again i go
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Father hands Billy a length of rope. Billy builds his resolve, fights back his tears, heads into the kitchen. It's time to become a man.
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