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Even Medusa was beautiful once, before the sea, snakes, stone. Any chimera is regal if you turn a certain way. Even Medusa was beautiful.

He looked a look of vicious happiness and eagerly pried the watch open.

I wanted to be a citizen of the empire called American Express.

Don’t write what you know. Write what you can imagine.

The dope worked, though he felt ashamed using it, smoked in secret.

It suddenly seemed to her that the world was filled with little miracles. There were moments when love overcame her despair.

The baby won’t sleep until 2 a.m., not until he poops and throws up.

Today brings a blue hour, but the jasmine has been dead for weeks.

The grass is defiant, wild, and reluctant to take any shape.

The graffiti suggests the most essential story of New Haven.

Anchored off Biscayne Bay my father’s wooden skiff swings easy.

We spit out the black seeds, bits of night glistening on the grass.

It’s been months, and the fields are good for nothing but night talks.

I want everything to mean. To have worth and weight. But it doesn’t.

Standing there in our small shadows, we discuss the ways of the dead.

Time, now more than ever, is of the essence. Time is all there is.

That what I call my Self is asleep, and has dreamed up these lilacs.

The end’s already in motion, the end was starting this whole time.

How many gods do you believe in? How many good men?

She’s not the same, her body more naked in its aging, its disorder.

Mostly, though, you could turn them in your hand, hold them to your nose.

If party isn’t what we set out to do then you should go home.

Relief workers tore swaths of insulation from the rafters of the house.

Is it that he is too tired or too afraid to blink into the oil of his own machine?

I sometimes have to laugh because even now, as a middle-aged man.

I arrange your five deflating basketballs under the lonely net.

She had come to the scene where she needed to get them in bed.

Eros, myth, life, and literature in brilliant paintings by Lincoln Perry.

I found it impossible not to imagine a radiant future for myself.