Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
I live in a neighborhood where horses sometimes wander, and so do drunken old men and well-trimmed hobos dressed in L.L.Bean duck boots. The local township serves out “BEWARE OF GYPSIES!” newsletters at the eve of spring, warning us that “roving bands of strangers looking for work are known to Read more
“An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; a wild beast will wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind.” Unknown Friends. How many do you have? Are you a busy socialite, with reams of numbers that are on speed dial Read more
Until recently, I considered myself to have been a late bloomer. My high school understanding of boys came largely from Heathcliff and Mr. Darcy. The little nubbins on my chest had plenty of breathing room in their A cup dwellings, and I got my period roughly around the same time Read more
I sit and wait in a coffee shop. My notepad perfectly prepared for a meeting that I’ve arranged. A meeting to discuss a film project with a girl who is fourteen, and her mother. They arrive, and we all shake hands. I invite them to my table. So far, we Read more
Surrender to the glossy eyes of bourbon scented lust. Unfold yourself, parchment-thin, cracking and splitting damnation is yours to keep. Whispered affirmations descend canicular days jacket intimidation’s face. Accept rapture, evil’s sinister charade. Enjoy sips of steamy semen, impatient cum. Stand there, shrouded in shame having neither recompense or power Read more
So raw, unfiltered through sun/moon/stars bathing and drinking in naked showers/swimming pools. Don’t cover up! Flaunt/hide your daisies; this basket has always been here. //sunny, sunny, but it looks like it’s raining through that window// Weavers weaving weeping some brewing/ cooking soup and vitriol. Both taste the same from your Read more
“You were protective.” It wasn’t a thank you; it was an accusation. He was pissed. Yes, my seventeen-year-old son can be a little shit. Fortunately, I have read the psychology on pubescent boys and needing to distance themselves from their mothers as they become men, so I let him live. Read more
Open your heart, and let it slide. The giving keys swing to and fro in the late eve, and the brisk frost feels just like an old, clapboard green, stars, moon, and seaside funny, cricket home alive. A heartbeat, familiar kismet kind of old soul love. Pink dew, the lyrical Read more