Monthly Archives: April 2017

I’ve been thinking about it for over ten years now, Billie. There weren’t many people in our group at that party in the woods. You saw me staring at you – you couldn’t have missed me. I’d been drinking a … Continue reading →

As previously mentioned, “wherefore” rhymes with “bare whore.” What “bare whore” means, however, requires much further interpretation. Three ways to decode that phrase immediately come to mind: A prostitute who works nude. A prostitute who has unprotected sex with clients. … Continue reading →

I swore out loud to whatever might be listening that I could not ask you to be mine until I had written a thousand poems, so I got to work. I wrote and I wrote and then wrote wrote wrote … Continue reading →

Congratulations. You’re not as pathetic as everyone says. You’re nowhere near the embarrassment we all had previously thought. You’ve proven capable of stringing several sentences together and not offend everyone in listening distance. Good job. Whether you can capitalize on … Continue reading →

I never liked your macaroni. It was always too hard, too chewy. You always made a mouthful out of molehill. I said I was allergic to your cat but really I just didn’t like his smell like something had died … Continue reading →

Every few days I try to duplicate the circumstances of our first chance meeting. You walking out for lunch, maybe shopping for furniture. Me ambling about town, wondering how much longer I can stay in the city without any sort … Continue reading →

All the pretty girls are flying away even before I have asked them to play. They up and leave me, whatever I say. Every pretty girl’s just flying away. There must be something I can do to make one stay … Continue reading →

Just tell me what to do. I can’t figure out what you want me to – I haven’t so far at all – so let’s skip any further attempts at telepathy and get down to the nitty gritty. Do you … Continue reading →

Hey, fuck you guys. They loved this in Peoria. The stuff that you’re being oh so polite over, this shit killed a couple of states from here. They adored it and me. They lifted me up by shins and needles, … Continue reading →

The gift you offered is inappropriate, Mister Samson. It was ill-received, and I’ll thank you not to bring it up again. Why? Well, if I must explain: no aspect of it provided an instant of sexual gratification or graft or … Continue reading →