LlyrentheShrew

The sun is a strange acidic-shade-of-pink and metallic waves of shimmering heat obscure the asphalt –     all I can do is sleep. Scorched air – from the concrete sidewalks below, floats –   through the open window. A constant-thump-of-rap vibrates the floor     and filters into my dreams. Garam masala and saffron rice – fresh falafel and Hare Krishna beans – escape street vendors     to invade my afternoon nap. The rosemary, basil, sage, mint, coaxed into existence on the kitchen ledge may fight this battle bravely –     but they will lose the war.

Come in          through the front door                    down the sidewalk                    up the long street An average house          You           don't know          You           wouldn't see Three matching bowls          stoneware          hand-thrown          one in each of three rooms          she had lived alone The boots he keeps          spattered with paint          lavender and yellow          a memory slipped in a corner Visit at night you might see He and she          asleep          at peace          hands joined overhead, a perfect heart          a love          they dream          

In the event of an          earthquake          tornado          atomic blast Duck and cover                    the desk above you          melamine          aluminum          particles of wood Will surely protect you. Should the sirens sound                    climb a mountain                    go underground Be sure you have          iodine          preserved fruit          canned milk          beans You will surely survive. When the bombs begin to fall                    hide your          money          artwork          photographs          family Surely you will return. In case of emergency

The morning erupts          on little cat feet A flick of the tail          a breath exhaled               too fast at the end of a leap and then A paw,     placed on lid's soft fan of lash breath whirring, throaty, warm          nose             to          nose eyes still closed Then          open Thwack – A stunning velvet attack     innocent lids           unwarned     warm sheets      no safe haven The morning erupts     on little cat feet.

I have found inside myself A woman I do not know. She is small curled and cold laying against a stone wall. I stop to look at her – she glances up away from the pool forming near her hand. Frozen     glassy     the pool reflects my fears Her face is streaked Tears that pour from me unbounded unknown unstopped. Who is this woman I have found inside myself? Why has she become My face?

Conversation waiting for the Train 1. It pisses me off when he pretends      to sleep like that –      his eyelids flutter and that's how I know he's faking. Maybe I will live in Battery Park…      Dirty grey water slapping against the wall – Why a wall?      That way no hypodermic sand.      Ha ha.      Mmm. The statue's nice, too, when you can see it. I like the trees best, and the      grass. The bums are interesting –   

After the girl had put away a cup or two of warmed-over pig blood, and Lem felt comfortable that she wouldn't run off, he left Melody at the table and went in search of Sister Constance. She was in the day room, handing out clean blankets as they trickled in. Lem nodded at the ones he knew. There was Pryor, always first in line. He looked at Lem with his good eye on the non-burned half of his face. Next was Sketch. He traded a drawing to the Sister for the blanket. She held it up to the light. A perfect rendering of St. Mark's Cathedral lit up at night, right down to the rivets on the door and the security camera above it. "It's beautiful,

Sometimes Lem wondered how they saw him in the moments just before. An old girlfriend, an ex-husband maybe? Their mom or dad, or maybe a long-dead Army buddy. They saw what they wanted to. All Lem knew was the look on their faces when their gaze met his, when their minds told them he was something other than what he was. They always wore this beaming smile, an expression of damn-it's-good-to-see-you. They kept that look as Lem ripped their throats out with his teeth and slopped up the blood with his tongue. He could tell himself they died happy, that the last thing they saw was the person they most wanted to see. It was comforting. He was lu

I want to lie and say she's crazy in a way I do not understand. But I do. Pregnant with hope that lies Studying arts that crush her Married to normal that dies Doing the hormone shuffle I want to lie and say she's happy in a way I will never understand. But I do.

In the forest I built the old man like a child; a brown and weary god which swallows the shadows cast by water and breathes them out across the curling leaves. I carved his eyes from horn and ivory. They gleamed warily as twin stones dark with slumber, the ice winding its way through their cracks only by memory. Their pale moss fell off in patches. And his skull, shaken by the birthing of cold worlds in its sockets, was thrust into the willow trees to catch vestiges of falling ghosts but found only blackbirds and fistfuls of sleep. I grabbed rivers by their spines and peeled them gently from the dirt, wrestled their scarred water with my na

Much obliged, I appreciate it. Nothing like an ice-cold one after a day like this, especially durin' days like these, you know? So where was I? Oh yeah. Once you pass McNary, there's exactly Jack and Shit for the next sixty miles of I-10 to El Paso, except dirt, the Rio Grande on your nine o'clock, and the stars. I wasn't close enough to the city to get any real radio, and the satellite receiver was fucked. I was gonna talk to Red about that, maybe get one of those new rigs like Cassie drove. He always was soft on the ladies in his outfit. Anyway. I ain't seen sky like that since Desert Storm, you know? One thing about Eye-rack, the night s

She spoke in movie lines and lyrics. She designed orange and pink clothes. She kept pet potatoes under her bed. She raced back to hug me over and over. She roller bladed off porch cliffs easily. She designed orange and pink clothes. She sank into a teen abyss so deep. She dressed in ugly emotions and pain. She wrote out her darkest poignancies. She abhorred touch and light and me. She offered her fiercest support to me. She lived in a world of her own design. She decided to be a raging success. She studied and passed the GED test. She learned to drive and practiced going. She got a job and found a friendly world. She made frie