Stories tagged love

Don't Trip On My Exit Switch

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It’s nice, but, it’s weird not being in love, or maybe in love, sometimes in love. (Or, not in love. Frankly, we might be not in love.) Or, both of us might be. Or, only one of us might be. (Good lord, I hope it’s never me.)

One Way (for Tina Kieffer)

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This mother, she buys a one way ticket whenever she visits her three daughters who have wandered far from the eyes of her pearlescent knitting needles and tutti-frutti yarns.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 2

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Independence Day was a Thursday. Frank had been invited to join some Yale Art School classmates in Vermont for a three-day bacchanalia.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 3

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It was like watching one of those vintage eighteen-frames-per-second films of someone trying to open a stuck umbrella.

Incoming/Outgoing (w/one tweak)

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...deal with nasal drip, manage odor--

Samurai Kitteh

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She did not know the passage of time, for she was just a bedraggled little kitty, but she stayed behind the lattice for many rising and settings of the Sun.

West of Romance

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I want a perfect American life in shambles.

We Are Bad Poets

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Fuck love :)

Warning! Please Read this Before Adopting a Pet

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One evening I came home late from work to find my wife drinking white Zinfandel by the fireplace in the living room and reading Wallace Stevens poems out loud to the dog, curled at her feet.

All Men With Well Trimmed Beards

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Or, do my own red flags counter balance his. My back and forth, my restlessness, my one foot out the door, my ‘once a leaver… always a leaver’, my pitter patter for a former flame... peppered with my transgressions, my mistakes. Or, worse, the way I have

Poem for a Poet

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*

air

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i flew

Between Love and Hate

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“There is a fine line between love and hatred.” This was what his closest friend, Bob Sanders, had said to him many years ago. And it had finally and irrevocably proven to be so.

Make Out Party

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He begins talking about string theory. He reels me back in, from the dinosaurs to the infinite, human evolution and alternate dimensions, until it makes so little sense that everything makes sense.

Black Ribbon

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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.