I don’t write “I have the libido of a sloth” in my online dating profile. I don’t use my real surname now either.
The only reason I’ve seen Space Jam: A New Legacy so much recently is because I wanted to avoid talking to my wife.
Spring was months away; I could pretend peril didn’t exist.
“And then after I came out to my wife, she stumbled across People Can Change,” said the man from Fresno.
I didn’t want the water badly enough to die for it.
Don’t they let you? Don’t they ever let you lay down your head?
n the car, on the way to the hospital, I put my head in my lap and my hands over my ears, willing the city to disappear.
Marriage is often thought of as having little to do with eroticism.1
I met my husband while bartending in Oakland. He applied to be the new chef. Tattooed knuckles. Chubby cheeks. Full beard.
That summer held the moment, in real time and in my memory for several years, of something he said that I didn’t hear.
The mushrooms I bought yesterday are moldy; the lines around my mouth have deepened. Tomorrow I am a mother for the first time.
In his hospital room, he handed over his phone and I called his family.
We’ve sat in pot smoke-filled basements, watching boys play video games, and I’ve sipped wine with my parents on special occasions, but neither of us have been to an actual party before.
We long to see the world from her point of view, the worker. But do not ever long to be the worker.
My mother had been on a rampage to find me a husband since I started college.
I’m good at getting fucked up. I’m good at having fun. Go go go. I’m best at forgetting.
If a ghost is the impression you leave after you, then the divot you leave in your old bed is a ghost.
Gratitude is not the response she expected. She smiled through thin lips, missing the hoped-for fight.
The whole first week after moving into his Brooklyn apartment – our apartment he keeps correcting me – I’m horribly constipated.
I’ll dig a pit where it can roam, feed off the aporia of my lust, wash its hooves in semen, soak in pools of piss.
Oh, absolutely a mistake to have given the wealthy Protein Bar Daddy my number.
I wished you knew how it felt to sit at the dining table with all your cousins to crack the shells wide open.
Here’s the thing about choosing songs to give as gifts to people: it starts off being about them but really, it’s about you.
I am buried in the backyard, beside the garage, under the rack where the family canoe rests when not in the water.
When the Santa Anas whipped into town, everyone became a little crazier. They invited the wildfires as if to burn the witches amongst us.
"I loved reading Exit, Carefully. It’s unusual, and in my opinion exciting, to publish a play without previously receiving a major production."
-Walker Caplan, Lithub
“Lutz’s work is a marvel of the possibilities of language. Each of her sentences is an intricately crafted thing, deeply complex yet crystalline in its clarity . . . her command of each and every word remains supreme.”
--Mira Braneck, The Paris Review Daily
Garielle Lutz is the author of The Complete Gary Lutz, among other books.
"[Her Lesser Work] is a collection of mordant and formally inventive stories circling themes of, let’s say, desire and escape within repressive structures."
-Walker Caplan, Literary Hub
