Two Stories

By - Nov 25, 2019

You can gamble in the casino of stars at night where the moon looks like a pill and God deals you a terrible hand and there are no limits. You, the famous unknown, holding your baby and your syringe, waiting to be discovered by reality. Head full of sky, throat full of spiders.

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4/15/18

By - Nov 20, 2019

in his professionalism, he seemed slightly nervous as though i might
keep asking him to touch me more and more places, but i didn’t, i too
remained professional, i said, ok thanks for looking i just wanted to make
sure, and i sat up, and he went back to his seat across the room

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excerpts from Little Hollywood

By - Nov 11, 2019

This building must be so tired. I am this building. I am a shit nightclub on the seafront with stained herringbone floors. [Beat.]

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Two Stories

By - Nov 5, 2019

A man on the patio is talking, in a way that seems like he is trying to reach an audience, about a phase in his life when he did push-ups every 15 minutes no matter where he was. Anywhere.

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Somewhere, A Toilet Flushed

By - Oct 28, 2019

He had a head of lettuce between his waxy hands. The place reeked of vinegar. My mother had been snoring strong in their bedroom since I walked in. Dad said she had a toothache.

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Them Looking Back at Us

By - Oct 14, 2019

the whole house smells like fried butter, the walls are impregnated with the smell of butter, because the walls of this house absorb everything, the wife is making steak

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Fishing

By - Oct 2, 2019

She rattled on enthusiastically about the pros and cons of ordering chocolate, vanilla, or swirl. When we selected swirl, she screamed that we’d made a great choice.

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Corroboration

By - Sep 26, 2019

That’s how people were these days most often, though not my mother. I heard her cooing even as they tickled off her flesh.

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Five Poems

By - Sep 23, 2019

Turning a crank

on the side of my head

& shooting diamonds

out of my eyes

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Havana, 3PM

By - Sep 10, 2019

I watch your mouth
swallow the fruit
  
as I caress your head.

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Sorry, No Blues Magoos

By - Sep 3, 2019

They give me the freedom to do this, this thing they call telling the truth. Summon me. I promise to do the chores.

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Everybody’s Darling

By - Aug 22, 2019

I am intruding—I am an intruder—how unsavory mother would find it. I open the drawer of a dark wood chest and I see them. A sea of pinks and whites, offwhites and yellows. Silk, lace, small blankets, warm serviettes.

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