It was when the party hit a lull and a woman wearing too much rouge was going on about her parakeets that Tom decided to set down his bourbon glass and pull out his gun.

the Way that can be mapped leads nowhere.

A woman who is, say, a culinary arts champion or an heiress devoted to literature such as Bryher (Annie Winifred Ellerman) or Peggy Guggenheim might be able to turn me on, turn me out, turn me around.

He was here and then he was gone. He wasn't at my ex-wife's house either. On Tuesday we were at the circus and that's the last I saw him. I jumped into my '68 Beetle, one step above a clown car, and I stopped by The Big Top. The carnies were there, smoking cigarettes and…

by myself next to just one wide-eyed moment of wild blued out ocean. You know the one I mean. I don't want to have to speak to you, or even- alone- to myself. I'd like to be left inside the poem it makes me feel without having to get up and pee every…

I watch from the cabin window the death of the sun, hear the howl of the new-born storm.

Dark day.

One by one our friends are kicking the bucket. Let's get together. It's now or never, we figure.

My name's Barbara and don't call me Barbie if you want to be my friend.

Love free of independence is a savage, hungry beast Phantoms grasping, sweating, gasping 'till her mind could not be freed

You know, my mother was afraid that I can no longer resist. She was absolutely right: My four sisters have all passed away before the summer shows its fruit. It was hard "said my mother”, not to see my flowers bloom. I, the calf of my mother,I came…

At the graveyard, the leaves had been raked into loose array....

Yellow Pages season is on us now, and Jimmy's drivin' a contract route. He'll head out to the San Joaquin where they print, and load ‘em in the back of his Tundra with the high side walls until the whole damned rig sags low,

“How’s the Pinto running?” Sean says. It’s been awhile. Maybe Darcy won’t remember him.

Shakespeare had red hair / Van Gogh never painted a nude