You Are Eighty-Two Percent My Enemy Let’s Dance Deliciously figure skating through crisis mode I’ve been learning to read French by staring at the wall and envisioning French
Lately everyone to whom I’m physically attracted is way too concerned with the continued survival of the daffodil too busy protesting it appears to even look
Riding Shotgun Ancient history, the time I did weed; Patti coaching “don’t inhale, just swallow the smoke – same difference” and Mom was right to worry I’d fall into the wrong crowd, traipsing around after dark, not going straight to the dance and straight home.
Patti made a criminal of me, cross-legged on her ’70s
Mix
She found her roots in a crimson fold of earth,
a curl of her grandmother’s hair
and the ripe edge of a drum,
tucked and pressed down.
Hidden,
like a photograph in an album,
trapped underneath that clear sheet that sits over top,
but now yellowing and stiff.
She found the mixture of red
leftovers/the ones who came before the first one left sprayed semen inside of me too young to know better
the fifth one left his frayed tee shirt on my bed he wouldn’t speak to me but it painted my shoulders for 8 long months
the sixth one took it off me, slowly just before he
Reconciled Last night I dreamt that Miss Hooker said yes when I asked her to marry me and we went on our honeymoon after we got all that wedding stuff out of the way, all that vowing and kissing at the altar and being hit with rice on the way out of our church and
The Red of Fall 1 Wherever you went, a white attic room with one small window followed. The dimwits and dipshits knew your name, but only I knew your location, and that afterward we’d fall asleep, sometimes entwined.
2 My sadness grew fatter than a circle when we made love, bedazzling a backyard telescope, just
The Bruce Issue (superhero themed)
Holy smokes–it’s coming, it’s really coming! This project has been something I’ve always wanted to release, right from the get-go of founding Literary Orphans. The superhero themed issue is finally open for submissions! (scroll to the bottom to see how & where to submit)
Each issue of Literary Orphans
Trans Oceanic, Ink – a handwritten examination of geography.
*** APPLICATIONS ARE NOW CLOSED AS OF 11-28-2012!
***
Writer, you are alienated from your craft.
You get up at night, click on your computer. You hear a fan whir as one of the many complicated devices that necessitate your lust fires electricity into fabricated synapses.
Happy New Year At the exact moment of the New Year I had a Mexican couple in my cab. We were on the freeway heading out to Daly City. I was looking at the dashboard clock and I said something like, “Well that’s it. The ball’s dropping right now.”
They didn’t say anything, so I
My Life My greatest joy is planning my exit from this world. My second greatest joy is canoeing the Neches River in East Texas.
At first I wanted to be cremated and have my wife eat my ashes. She has refused to do this. I don’t know why. I would eat her ashes if she