Let someone bang her champagne glass with the pretty cutlery your in-laws gifted you. Or bang your own.
a lynch mob. a defense mob. a gunshot. hate. a gunshot. hate. a deputizing of hundreds.
there is a confluence influenced apparently by a fluidity of music.
All meat is tenderized the same way. /Good meat is beat lifeless before you eat.
Be humble. Do not be a dick. Do this for the sake of your soul but also for the sake of your career.
She’s the kind of person who adapts to a broken thing instead of figuring out how to fix it.
Faceless hills,/ lamps of summer in galaxy gray, we touch & go
“Oh, you have an answering machine? I thought all you Millennials used voicemail. Look, I know you’re home. I watched you pull into the garage. I see you’ve added another bumper sticker to your Prius: hope not hate. You girls have some nerve. “So you’re screening my call? Suit yourself. This is Mrs. Darcy Wallace,… Continue reading “Neighborhood Watch, circa 2009” by Susan Rukeyser
There is nothing eternal about us. Therefore, I embrace my dogness. Therefore, I recover my dignity, lost in Acapulco centuries before. Welcome to the pecking order. Welcome to the wet dream of interminable rank and file. Joy is on hiatus, and at parties, all that’s spoken of is Netflix and the catafalque of female desire.… Continue reading “Enlightenment”by Virginia Konchan
Union Square Park swarms with students and tourists, languages I can’t identify, families, mothers with toddlers trailing sippy cups, men just off shift lighting and then stomping cigarettes before they descend to the train. What are the prospects? The question I asked every time I tried the online Tarot reading site, hoping again and again for… Continue reading “What Are the Prospects?” by Amy Lemmon