Oh baby, if you'd only let me phone you. You'd have your hand in the receiver-- because you, still to this day are not like us. Your phone don't walk around with you. But baby, God, you like me this way. I'm at my best. My hands are flawless and my feet are covered with sand ( Read more... )

In this story, I have nightmares all night about the end of the world. In them Mohammad tells me to look at the shape of the clouds, and Jesus Christ just shakes his head. When I wake up- in my waking life, there are men screaming. Yelling in the streets. It's just a parade, you know some aftermath of The Super Bowl- but what about Super Tuesday? ( Read more... )

When I first started hanging out with Tiffany, I thought the only thing that we would have in common is the fact that we were Martial Arts Daughters. You don't know what I mean? Well, we were someone's daughter. Not in the sense that are fathers are politicians or royalty or that we are heiresses (maybe heiresses to kung-fu and tai-chi empires, but ( Read more... )

Black, two packets of sugar. It's amazing how I can order my coffee the same way-no matter what has happened. Jump back four hours earlier to me going 75. Jump forward to now sitting at Denny's and shrugging off what happened, because it seems like the right thing to do. This is pure denial, well that’s what I tell myself. Out of fear that this is ( Read more... )