I have a twitch sometimes. I keep my left eye open in my sleep.
A small planet of nothing but dust,
abandoned basketball courts—
a few hapless donkeys…
So Don’t stare, the mother snaps
at the child who doesn’t mean to reduce
this dwarf, that cleft face, those
conjoined twins to oddity.
On the day of your wedding, I broke into the church.
the mayor of
our collective joy of
If we assume two things—one, that the best place to start is the beginning, and two, that the Heliopolitan Cosmogony is accurate—then we ought to start with an androgynous figure masturbating.
He sits out there in his rowboat, mouth half open, the Chicago skyline rising and falling behind him. I walk on my knees though the water. Inching closer, slipping farther out into the lake.
What he was kicking, with a ferocity more like assault than play, was a small peach basket.
My father was disappointed by my inability to ride a two-wheeler by the age of six. He never said so directly, but I could tell.
"If you want to write a novel," says Joe Samuel Starnes, "don’t wait until you think you’ll have time. As Harry Crews said, life will never give you time to write a novel.