We watched our father chuck her boom box out the bedroom window.
End of October, days recede quickly into night. Leaves fall in slow motion.
There was no sense in brushing off or any other civilized thing.
The preacher looked me in the eye. He laid his hand on my chest.
My daughter’s favorite game is Holocaust. She’s quite inventive.
I needed a paycheck a lot more than I needed to be kissed.
The animals are dying. All the beautiful women are dying too.
What if my mother could have been happy if I hadn’t been born?
The old man drinks some more liquor and whacks down two trees.
Snows piling in his crying mouth. Cold gave him a light complexion.
He fell to the floor and begged the gods. The gods were silent.
The first time I met you I fought your father in the driveway.
do you asks pretty sue know what I love what pretty please tell us
I wouldn’t sleep a second, knowing the catastrophe I’d set in motion.
Barbie Chang asks why the evil one always has black hair.
I hate it here, but I’ll make the best of it, because that’s what mothers do.
The man protested, I didn’t do anything. He needed the job. I only kissed her.
I worry that I will be kidnapped by my cab driver and driven to an ATM.
Writing is a subversive activity that exempts you from the rules.
Abandon the idea that arts and sciences are mutually exclusive.
Truths don’t eclipse each other—they only complicate each other.
My father stood up, unable to choose which one of us to kill first.
If they don’t give you a seat at the table, bring a folding chair.
“Bo? I need you to be a big boy now,” she said. “Are you ready?"
When we’re all together like this it feels like hope is a possibility.
On her wedding day Ellen accidently locked herself inside the pantry.
A boy who makes dinosaurs from blue clay, each one with three hearts.
I saw my mother’s face turn dark like the winter sky before a storm.
The story doesn’t begin until the van breaks down, I always say.
I had never thought of bed before as anything but an innocent place.