There was once a time when my aunt and uncle had room enough to take us the odd weekends our parents were on vacation. Their house was smaller than ours and I felt haughty in it. The walls were dark and the air smelled musty. In the afternoons dust poured in the air like cigarette smoke in an old black and white movie. Going out into the sun was blinding. 

Hanging panties like cat skin, or Books of Dead and leaving in nighties. The jambs are so low. Lights on high are... more

Cops come and take Hannah s Dad away this morning, throw him in the back of a car and yelling and screaming at him the whole time like he done left the ice cream out all day.

Banff: Running Away I was young enough to believe that when moments felt significant they probably were. I saw sacraments... more

The tornado craved fame. 

Win wasn't homeless, which set him apart from the others. But he'd hit rock-bottom, jobless and sharing enough to be one among... more

I have been given the opportunity to discuss some of the key inspirations behind my latest book, Basal Ganglia. Works of... more

I want to spank Diane Sawyer In fact, I'd pay upwards of fifty dollars for it, at least if she was wearing white... more

We’d been running longer than my memory. Our path was never obstructed, a well-worn corridor. Parallel walls of thorn-thick foliage kept us contained. 

A Theory of Blue  Telling the truth can be done in an American way, without irony or self-effacement. We begin with the image... more

I like to believe it started with her grandfather’s blessing and a bottle of spray paint—even though it might not have. 

Halfway through The Shining, Jack Nicholson accepts a glass of whiskey from a ghost. It’s... more

Ars Poetica I want to say this simply: I was out near the river; the trees were bare, and would be. I saw no blacksnake in... more

And in the winter I traveled by ship to a land of copper domes and cobble roads, of shops glowing beyond frosted windows, of lampposts capped with mounds of snow, where I fell in love with a girl with an abnormal face. 

Because I can tell it's going to be a crappy day at work I dress up as Virgin Mary with my blue silk dress and white head scarf and lemon drop halo that got coffee spilled on it so it's a little warped, but it will do for one day of selling shoes.

Ochlockonee Sawtooth palms, and the hymns of a leftover Palm Sunday lard the air with the gentleness of some imagined... more

When my friend is upset because someone posted about them on the internet in a way they aren’t sure is ironic, it makes me... more

  I The man—Grandpa's friend—said, Welcome to Heaven on Earth. He wore overalls and climbed... more

When Ettore was a boy, he dreamed of puppets hovering over his bed. 

THE SKULL OF A UNICORN It “might” be a hoax. That’s what they’re reporting.  “Might” be... more

What came next was one long show: broken strings, smashed microphones, guitar solos without boundaries or purpose, house parties with bands in the kitchen and bands in the attic, missing kick drum pedals, stolen snares, songs we couldn’t figure out how to end and we drifted inside them, lost within our own imaginations.

My favorite video game lives in an ark. Surrounded by artifacts packed in a Rubbermaid tote box, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time was next on my Summer of the Video Game list of must-plays. 

like when I stand with the kitchen scissors in the citygarden, / thunderloving a green skinned fruit. // He hears my kisses, a wall grabber, the neighbors’ dog / left out in the cold.      here’s to his / soft wet nose      and a part of me / that bleeds dogblood, impure.

Z’s phone rang. He picked it up and said hello. The person on the other end asked if he was Dr. Schlesinger. After a pause, Z said, “Yes, this is he.” 

That statement, of course, being a lie. 

We crowd around the flame, we extend our naked hands, we feel the joints in our fingers warm and crack. The smoke stains our jackets and hats with its smell.

Gabriel Blackwell’s been busy. In the... more