Shakespeare should have stayed over. I would have made him breakfast- a good, hearty English breakfast. I have some Earl Grey in the freezer and we could have picked up some frozen biscuits from the Arbee's down off of Broad Street. No. Hardey's. I don't know the food well. I am no connoisseur of English breakfast foods but Shekespeare should ( Read more... )

The ship sails out of sight, tipped with white sails that are lost among white waves and blinding sunlight. Should I have stayed? Bartholomew was dead- hanged from a tree, his body shriveled to nothing. He used to pour salt on slugs to watch them melt. I guess that bastard got what he deserved. His skin was leathered by the steady rains of a ( Read more... )

Nunc est bibendum. The wolves are outside waiting, crowded before the door beneath the skull and crossbones flag that hangs so stiffly in the harsh winter winds ( Read more... )

I remember about a month ago or so, I was with a friend hanging out with a guy whose wife just left him. He had come up with a maxim that he kept repeating all night, "fuck. that. bitch. fuck that bitch!" He said it so many times and with such profundity that I have now come to incorporate it into my own consciousness. I am at a point in life ( Read more... )

there are never perfect lyrics, perfect chords, perfect melodies-
only wrong lyrics, wrong chords, wrong melodies.

Some tears find comfort in onions. They trail away- down face- through air and space- all over the [place ( Read more... )

go see a movie called The Science of Sleep

I finally got my clothes together to go to the laundromat. And walking down the street to the end of the block with a laundry basket packed full of dirty clothes, I was stopped by some older women. "You going to do your laundry?" "Yeah, we still haven't-" "The laundromat burnt down last night. It's condemned." "What? Last night? The one ( Read more... )

When we were kids, mother, you held tightly to our wrists in town as the bohemians with flowers passed by on the other side of the street. We screamed in little high pitched voices and wiggled and wiggled, trying to overcome your strength through wiggling. But it was of no use. You were so strong. You had us both to our knees, in such a ( Read more... )

Carter stands in the back of a pick-up truck driving recklessly through town, playing fiddle and screaming out that God is dead. His girlfriend, Jill, doubts her sexuality as she looks on from the ice cream shop with a cone in her hand and a tear in her eye. Stanley, the drunk that is driving the pickup truck, thinks of the girl he almost got ( Read more... )