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

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

Better to rewrite Baudelaire: The body only exists in the dark.

The old world came back, like an old photograph transforming.

How different they were; how comfortable he was that.

I sometimes forget I’m a horse. I’m also a man dressed as a horse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, please, please,” she begged the class. “Please don’t do it.”

When I say I’ve seen a man die, what I mean is many and always.

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

Later, in a sudden about-face, she gives herself to him entirely.

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

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

I believed in department stores the way I believed in Germany.

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

We couldn’t tell which of us was a girl or a boy we gorged on dirt.

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

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

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