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A Day at the Beach for Aphrodite

I was enraged at being alone on the outside of all that love and lust.

A Day in the Life of Woman Cartoonist

I'll rid the world of bad things. But first, I need to get more coffee.

A Matter of Appeal

Felicia knew why he was there. He was waiting. Waiting for her.

A Place for Us

Our house sits alone out in the country, seven miles north of town.

A Walkabout in Andrew Wyeth’s Painting and Other Poems

My bike, my skinny body, my pent breath was thrown to the grass.

A Windfall

She flicked a bit of citrus on her tongue. Her laugh was hard and high.

Addendum and Other Poems

The animals are dying. All the beautiful women are dying too.

Affliction Parish and Other Poems

He tuned the future backward as he left the ringing water to reclaim me.

After Music

“I’m torturing you,” she said. “It isn’t fair.” Now I saw there were tears.

After the Fire, the Sound of a Low Whisper

Our life is fine as it is, she would say to him, and it seemed true.

Afterlife

Mostly he was in a hurry, so he’d just stick it in and away we’d go.

Amanda Strayhorn, Reverend’s Wife

She countered the reverence of his efforts stroke by stroke, tit for tat.

American Paradoxes

I recoil from the certitude that religion can give a person; it’s horrific.

Animals

He was gentle and slow, like a blind man washing dishes.

As a Girl, I’ve Been Taught

Women should hate it when people whistle at their backs as they walk past.

Axis of Happiness

I hadn’t always liked being around my mother while she was alive.

Babylon Sister

Ah, yes, Rita reminded herself: I won. Her Mistress of Mayhem award.

Bear With Me

Why does she do it? She knows cutting yourself is a joke. Goth, idiotic.

Best Man

He was making some green by ripping his own heart out.

Best of Sex Writing

I am always hungry & wanting to have sex. This is a fact.

Beyond the Glass Ceiling There’s Sky

If they don’t give you a seat at the table, bring a folding chair.

Bosnia Bosnia

Too bad there is no oil between her legs that 4-year-old Muslim girl.

Boy Girl

She says, It’s so difficult to find a good guy. My lips form a half smile.

Broad Strokes

This Lee was a woman, and she was a painter, and she was good.

Brother in C Minor

Our father turned to me and said, Why does he sound like a girl.

Bruce (Bandanaed)

My spirit twinkles like tea lights above a backyard patio in 1950s Queens.

Bruise

He touched her bruise more softly than an elevator button.

Butterfly

“Why don’t you call yourself Butterfly?” he said. “A pretty thing like you.”

By Slow Degrees

We ate and then made love, the windows open to deafening twilight.

Call It a Feeling

When and why had I begun to think about Ingrid Stoltz? She was a bitch.

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