For posteriors' sake ( Read more... )

That's now how it goes, but it's not how it rolls, it rolls like a love off a tongue, but what was a love doing on a tongue in the first place? It's a wonder. Turning over, onto its back, beckoning biting nibbling needing--deficient, somehow. It is my fault, I know ( Read more... )

Sometimes all the fancy words in the fancy word world can't suffice when a simple FUCK YOU is in order.

So here's a simple FUCK YOU.

Violin speaks volumes from where I burned the refrigerator with my lazy cigarette. This is the last of a year full of nights on a balcony which has been so lonely, so harshly lonely, but also so friendly, so full of friends and every chair a gracious host. So many cigarettes--how many times did we empty out that rusted-up coffee can?--so many ( Read more... )

The genius of trees, the talented trees who capture the waning light sent by the Indian sun who smiles on those who'll allow themselves to be smiled upon. Ending a sentence in a preposition because it feels good, a breaking free of the prescriptive shackles so to speak, to speak of Earl Grey on a studious afternoon waning into a lazy evening ( Read more... )

You smile, I smile--oh, we smile! It's a chorus line of smiling sunshiners and we, we smile we likes it this way! I feel faintly crazy in that chortle-good tingly sense you know the one. I fumbled for my keys so we could get drugs at the Dairy Queen, because the genius mashed banana sunlight for Pete's sake how my eyes ears they smart! Smart ( Read more... )

( Refresher. )

You start to realize, on I-94, that it's not so bad, nothing's so bad. There are bearded pedophiles living in slovenly, sprawling Midwestern hell doing nothing, nothing, smoking cigarettes and swigging whiskey and scratching their balls. Filthy and unfit to parent anyone or anything, and yet they reproduce ( Read more... )

In heat in an afternoon the day I don't understand, it couldn't be a Saturday going on Sunday because I've been awake too long, alive too long without the understanding. But now I have it, something like it I suppose ( Read more... )

I could stay inside that bubble forever and that way I could be cool, cooled and cooled to harden and glow like a crystal in a humid cavern not made of rock but somehow stone. Safely separated from World, two curtains between me and breezes and nudges and all those silly wishy-washes, focused singly on the tea-tree soap, the scalp massage, the ( Read more... )