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Prison Nights, Winter Nights

You can’t ask her not to fall in love when she does it on a daily basis.

Promise

What felt like sanctity now felt like nothingness, like death.

Promises

He folds on himself like a sheet kicked off the foot of a bed.

Pryor

He smelled like the bars my mother took me to in the middle of the day.

Publishing Partners: The First Eight Books, 1970–1985

They don’t dance but simply monitor our movements, like bodyguards.

Punctures, Wounds

She looks at them through eyes flattened by a confused life.

Rainy Season

The transformation of their maid from shadow to sexpot thrills Maizie.

Ravishing Pink

Was that lipstick on Don’s cheek? This was too much for her to take.

Reading from His Story “Screenwriter”

As soon as her grandparents left, BLAM, the dance in her died.

Reading from His Story “Screenwriter”

My first suicidal ideations occurred to me when I was ten, eleven, twelve.

Reading His Poetry

All down my street the new fathers beat the kingness out of the kings.

Reading His Poetry

Our crowns are made of dead hair and get swept out with the trash.

Reading Two Poems

A woman’s long bare legs stretched up at the edge of the graveyard.

Ready

Her sly smile was a vicious remnant of her life before Real Life began.

Reasonable Men

Keaton didn’t control his emotions; he put them to use.

Red Desert Notes

Trailblazers we celebrate. Those outcasts, outliers, and outlaws.

Redemption Song, Part One

Ivan rolled his eyes, and looked at the sky like someone about to be martyred.

Redemption Song, Part Three

The suite cost as much as a two-pound brick of Panama Red.

Redemption Song, Part Two

I floated in the tub, my head bobbing, until I felt slick as a seal.

Refinement

For a moment I had the delicious feeling of fitting in without even trying.

Rehearsals

She had learned that it was easy to get Sylvi to do things.

Relatives of the Dead

The dead man’s suit coat
 is a good fit through the shoulders.

Repossession

Shit happens, you still have to pay up or lose it all, even if it ain’t your fault.

Respectability and Other Poems

Carte blanche is bodily as chalk on dark asphalt, so enliven these eyes.

Rest Cure

As far as I was concerned you need never have been my father.

Returning to Church

Walking through the snow with her was enough, quiet enough.

Reunion and Other Poems

I keep waking up on the edge of the black lake. He’s on the other side.

Revision

She’d lifted the plot from a TV show she’d watched the night before.

Riding the Dawg

Hemorrhages, it was thought, do not appear for no reason.

Riot

John-Michael kept his mouth open until saliva had pooled behind his teeth.