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A horn blared behind him. Dan put his Corrola into drive, and began inching forward. Something colorful passed on his left and abruptly pulled in front of him. He slammed the brakes, nearly ramming into a bubblegum pink three-wheeled motorcycle command
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The large black pedals on the red/Tricycle rotate, push along the cracked,/Weedy surface.
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The snake glides unhurriedly through the garden one warm July afternoon looking for a schmoose. Or barring such pleasant daytime passage, a shady snoozing spot. He twines himself about the gravid apple tree’s trunk caduceus-like, slithering his handsom
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It was mostly accidental.
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It's definitely not her pretty face that made him smile so quirkily when she returned in the evening.
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What the heck to believe in??
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You’ve known her since grade school and even though you’ve never copped a feel, it gave you a strange chill when you heard boys talking about her breasts, pressing against madras or chamois with some devilish life force, or how one day she’ll fuck l
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a poem that unwrapped itself so casually I tucked it under my tongue, just to make sure
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Joe Don followed the route taken by an increasing number of Texas teenage jocks whose football glory days are prematurely cut short and joined his high school's Cowboy Poet Squad.
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My relationship to poetry resembles that of Patty Hearst, the newspaper heiress, to her abductors.
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“We’re on our way to gold country to find the American Dream.” No point in mentioning the huge prairie dogs, the ones swarming and screeching beneath the horses in their Hell’s Angel gear and Nixon masks.
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Wherever you decide to grow
Please remember to ask the dirt
‘Am I still dust’
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Grace looks at her cell phone. It had been about a week since her Aunt Margaret fell, slipping gracefully down the stairs and pulling her shoulder out as she grabbed the banister, her hand caught in the holiday streamers spiraling down the railing. Every
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His mother named him Far because she had high hopes for him
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The Marigold gloves are yellow (figures!) and medium, the apron ironed with a touch of starch added...
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Once we’d mellowed from the wine, our little group of friends grew reflective. We started talking about our “bucket lists”–how we were going to spend the remainder of our years before we lapsed into senility.
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The funk of wet wool, stinky feet, reeking armpits, stale beer and fried food created a bohemian fetor.
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“Each animal has its own strength.” She insisted. “And if the rooster were provoked. It would kill a snake.”
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I was about sixteen or seventeen when James Miller had a stroke and died. He was a friend of my father's and a preacher-guy. The last time our church had been that full was at the barbecue the weekend after the church was built. Somehow, the structure went…
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her skin was delicate, fragile, that old woman skin that appears to be translucent.the rip caused by the knife opened it up like tissue paper. blood welled for a moment, then poured out with real purpose.this was the delight he found in old ladies.. the scent of their…
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After our first kiss,
a team of scientists
scrubbed away the cancer
of your lipstick.
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Near Christmas in Chicago they used to have these pictures of a five dollar bill on billboards all around the city, with the caption: Take Abe to Mass. On the front steps before going into the church, we encountered a ver
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Lover’s leap to a bank of smooth shale/
Where I sat drinking beer that past summer/watching a group of hard shell Baptists/line up to be saved in it’s muddy waters
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writing because it's the only drug i havesick on sadnessas the weight of the moment crumbling around me comes down some sweet second inspires…
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Deciding what is important from the life of a man that you haven't spoken to in ten years was a task that had seemed impossible at the outset. But now, here she stood, having done just that.
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That Loving Feeling
How do I love thee?
I love the bulge
of your breast
along the inside
of my upper arm
when you lie on top
kissing me
I love
feeling the movement
of your nipple
along the tender skin
there
It
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At this time of night, the fluorescence makes his eyes bleed. The muscles in his legs are tight; walking's more of a necessity than anything else. Alexander pushes the shopping cart down the endless gray tile floors of the Grand Union on 35.
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