Even though it’s irrational, for some reason, Jake wants to blame his mother. As if her bad energy and DNA linger off him like a scent that attracts predators.… more
Even though it’s irrational, for some reason, Jake wants to blame his mother. As if her bad energy and DNA linger off him like a scent that attracts predators.… more
I am late to seeing this beauty and art in violence, too late, thinking boxing barbaric, dumb, reckless. I myself not being able to imagine why anyone would want to do something where they were set up to get hurt repeatedly, to get hurt and hurt and do it again. Can you find truth there somewhere?… more
I go to bed dreaming I’m riding a giant electric razor like a mechanical bull in a field of alfalfa at dusk. Clouds smear across the night sky like drunken Bob Ross brush strokes. Just as everything goes black, a beam of light descends upon me. Is it an angel? Is it the razor police, and are my razor-riding days numbered?… more
I’m too young to be demented and too old to be psychotic, at least for the first break. And my hearing, I’d recently checked, was still normal for my age, not a rousing endorsement, but hanging in there.… more
“Have a great weekend,” the pharmacy tech says and I look down at my recycled bag with a month’s supply of Tamsulosin in a sack with bran cereal and unsweetened coconut milk and reconcile her statement with the times I’d heard it while toting bags of chips and 30 packs of Genny Cream, then walk a few steps from the pharmacy counter and linger because John Cougar Mellencamp has just come on overhead.… more
Hole punched through the roof and a gunner’s mount bolted on, allowing a junior Marine to poke his head out and swivel around behind a big ass gun. Close to a hundred pounds and barrel almost four feet long. Teenagers with that kind of firepower make a lot of dick jokes.… more
When she shook him in the bed, she knew right away: this was no sleep. No, this was something more serious than sleep. This was death. Heavy as a bear.… more
Gay sex, by definition, is transgressive. We fuck until we die, and if we’re lucky, the sex will be our protest, the one too loud to ignore.… more
You lose count of the men you lose. Dozens die, some even by their own hand. At night in the club, you and the men stand, drink in hand, retelling tales of lost companions. After laughs and toasts, you all sing “Old Blue,” a folk ballad about a faithful dog. “Hey Blue, you’re a good dog, you.”… more
Cyrus gave me a reason to unleash my frustrations. My punches were questions. Why couldn’t I go to a private school? Why did my parents not have college degrees? Who was responsible for me sleeping through gunshots, huh? He tumbled to the ground. Before he got up, I had more questions for him. They possessed my reddening fists.… more