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Life Choicesexpand_moreI’ve never heard of Badgley Mischka (A person? Two people? Man?)
Like superstitious sports fans, we played the song night after night. Since giving birth I’d become hyperaware of death.
Her girlish hand the color of rich vanilla floating over the flotsam.
Kay Whitaker
My new car cost more than my dad’s first house; I Googled it.
Her knees seemed about to give way, and he quickly grabbed her elbow.
They rise in waves, while a lone hawk remains unperturbed.
Walking on Canal Street, I slipped on the curb and fell on my face.
All of those feelings—you do not have them, they have you.
He loathed them most, despising their desire to get on with things.
Brod stopped her before she could fling the latte in Marcella’s face.
The day was beyond the reach of words like tragic and hilarious.
Picture the thing you want most. True love? A new car? Let it go.
I thought how she must thrash with savage agility when she made love.
The barman emanated paranoia, the male customers sat introspecting.
Somehow my confession became a sharp knife I kept hidden in a drawer.
Your life is your own and then suddenly it belongs to someone else.
Hello, women rising up against toxic men. I salute you. And I apologize.
She has a small solid mess of troubles she longs to upchuck.
Rules are rules. No one comes this close, this fast. Protocol reigns.
A dangerous heat came from him, the heat of some interior decay.
Children were driven by deep yearnings that should be satisfied.
In the thickening smoke the workers clawed and flailed at one another.
three women came in their nakedness so i could choose from among them
Hemingway’s Royal typewriter sat atop a volume of Who’s Who.
I want to step out into sun to scintillate for waves to come and spray.
The problem, as it turned out, is: Forever can be surprisingly short.
“Well, it’s a dark world, Suzanne. She’s old enough to know that.”
That piece of flesh you’re with is a high school student, a minor.
Jack picked me up in a car with a greasy-potato sex smell.
