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Jobs & Workexpand_moreIn my head at least, you thrive, you die in this mix of ghost and gone.
Let’s walk down to the river, bless the paper boats and turn it all into wine.
David Lee
If life was exchanged, who is to say it flowed one way?
A goddess was offended; her altar required my virgin blood.
Charlie wasn’t Lena’s first love, but he counted on being her last.
Ike’s voice left behind on the shore as Tina plunges in again.
My own hunger was for a reduction in the vast space between people.
My own hunger was for a reduction in the vast space between people.
Yes, Eylon thought, he lied to Cath. Lied about his day, about the risks.
I love scientists. They’re trying their hardest. And they just want love.
Hemingway’s The Garden of Eden was edited by Tom Jenks.
“The kiels take extra time, but then you know your meats. Questions?”
The strange man expected to be picked up by aliens during the eclipse.
No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone.
He twisted like a weasel in the sack, lashing backward with his fist.
Buster’s reasons for looking after Marco weren’t entirely altruistic.
Trump reminded me of the guys I grew up with on Long Island.
They all pivoted to face us, tan mannequins on a conveyor belt.
Who needs driftwood when I can bury myself in your loamy soil.
A simple line of raging wet nearby, how as a kid I pictured the Nile.
Not all his children love themselves. Look at little Adrienne.
Even this says nothing of your desire—to be put to use.
A homecoming, she says, as if you hadn’t been back in decades.
My first true love was Underwood, my mother’s typewriter.
It has come to this—my daughter is now assaulting other children.
An idea surfacing—a crack of orange teeth. As if a ceiling disappears.
We put effort into making things that No Man would ever think of creating.
I tried to cheer my brother up by reminding him all clowns die too.
