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The Bodyexpand_moreWrists will twist or twirl while the hand writes the wriest writs—lamps-lit.
Song where a house becomes a dandelion in a puff of savage wind.
Books are territory of the hands, hands that shook my spine.
Too bad there is no oil between her legs that 4-year-old Muslim girl.
Nobody knows where I am, Ned thought. No one in the whole world.
I’m the one with the most crumbs, little bits of salad or fudge.
When we’re all together like this it feels like hope is a possibility.
I’d never seen my mother’s breasts. Or anyone else’s, for that matter.
I fell asleep wondering to whom the tree might have been writing.
He touched her bruise more softly than an elevator button.
Someone was saying his name, and that’s how he knew he was dead.
Jimmy’s jacket, mittens, and shirt were in a pile next to his frozen body.
“I’m looking for a Mr. Miller,” he said. “I was told I might find him here.”
The exurban dream of it all, to enter is to have the ability to exit.
When and why had I begun to think about Ingrid Stoltz? She was a bitch.
We pushed through the doors, back into the audition, among the lithe adults.
I think she’s too comfortable with humans to stay in the wild.
Under skin, I can see her beating heart frantic as a trapped toad—
I decided to go for the least lousy choice and have the surgery.
I am wet with circuitry. And I doubt I could ever save anyone.
The mortician who painted our girl was not a somber-suited officiant.
On her tongue was a wick and her body was invented a nation of lice.
“Are all the girls really beautiful? Is it true you make out in the showers?”
Liza Donnelly
New cartoons by Le Lievre, Warp, Piccolo, Leavitt, and Sipress.
Peter Vey
New cartoons from Mary Lawton, Joe Dator, Rina Piccolo, and more!
New cartoons from Rina Piccolo, Arnold Levin, Joe Dator, and more!
