“Malcolm was taking away her cake and ice cream,” Barry said, edging me up. “He should have known she was gonna fight for it.”… Continue Reading
But Muppets don’t end with your TV screens. Did you know? They infiltrate your workplaces, your idols, your governments.… Continue Reading
And that’s when he told me I reminded him of his dead daughter because we both have red hair, freckles, and look like we’re keeping everybody else’s secrets.… Continue Reading
For weeks after the blaze, I kept feeling like I was missing an essential item—my wallet, parts of my face, my entire body at times, but it seemed ridiculous because I was holding my wallet, could see my reflected face, and as far as I could tell, was still fairly alive. Still, some days I wasn’t sure.… Continue Reading
See the wild painted dogs of North Charleston. The weak ones die, but the drive of those pregnant mother hounds snuffling the ditch-line for hours—to see them is to see ourselves. Something wild, their bodies bearing the scars of night fights and bad love and still they get up after a hard rain.… Continue Reading
Nobody pays attention to Donny when he yells about fucking people up, but I do.… Continue Reading
Tammy Faye face, dollar store wig, she smokes Camels on the chaise while I root through her kitchen for oven cleaner.… Continue Reading
For a sex worker, she was cheap; but for a prostitute she was harder on the wallet.… Continue Reading
Because my husband Bob, out to sea with his maleness, will fly around the front yard, nekkid as a rabbit, as if to challenge me, and because my mother never thought twice about murdering a jackrabbit in the late afternoon.… Continue Reading
People want to be sportsmen because sportsmen are rich. People want to be artists because of money as well. If binmen became millionaires everyone would want to be a binman.… Continue Reading