A recent onslaught of uninspired poets have come and stripped the place of all character and charm, peeling the wallpaper for bookmarks and chiseling their names to solidify themselves in something that will outlive them.… more
A recent onslaught of uninspired poets have come and stripped the place of all character and charm, peeling the wallpaper for bookmarks and chiseling their names to solidify themselves in something that will outlive them.… more
A scene in a hotel. Punching. Kicking. Attempted strangulation. I’m furious for my sister and at the world, furious about male violence, so furious I imagine what I’d do to the man.… more
Around 1:26 a.m., the car—along with my medium Carnivore’s Delite—evaporated. Along that stretch, at this time of night, something marginally catastrophic may have happened, and I don’t want to get into a whole big thing here, but this should, ideally, be concerning.… more
You will not notice any customers, or how they flinch to not see you—you, a woman covered in soot; you, stinking of char; they, who for all these years you could greet only with mumbling, with a lump in your throat.… more
I ask my sister if she’s been drinking, and she says of course not. I hear her click her tongue, so I know she’s lying. I open the fridge. Something’s rotting in the vegetable drawer, but I don’t want to dig around right now.… more
Forgetting is a blessing, your dad slurs at you over the mac and cheese. You sit quietly until he leaves the table. You wish you could hear your mom’s voice. You hope she’s trying to remember yours, too.… more
Anyway, we’re doling out a hundred thousand skull-shattering kicks per second. Running up walls and punching support beams in half and smashing office equipment to bits. A crowd gathers because of all the righteous moves. They’re pretty impressed.… more
I’m gonna be late to pick up our fur baby, Ammo Man tells me. My wife’ll kill me. His black cap says, DUE TO THE COST OF AMMO WE NO LONGER FIRE A WARNING SHOT. You’d better run, I say. And then: Sorry.… more
Socrates, Nietzsche, Freud. Noah knew about the phallic stage while the rest of us were still in the phallic stage.… more
He worries about his jeans—sweatpants may have been wiser. He worries about a rush of over-eager blood after the young nurse asks him to remove them. He worries the doctor judges him when he answers, No children.… more