I could do the same with forgetfulness. But alas, that century had sailed and into bad waters, from what I understand. My my choice led elsewhere and elsetime. A fiction, I'm sure,

go hold behind the Sloop John B’s poop deck, along with his glass eye, false teeth, and pacemaker. Then I slid his body into pink tights and drove him to the circus sideshow.

my facial hair, sensibly weaved, plucked, and tweezed into any image he could concoct —fill in the blanks…but he was upset: he loves me for who I am, menopausal mustache and all.

They built a community center where the old church yard used to be. They didn't bother moving the old cemetery. They just dozed it over and made it into a parking lot. There wasn't

I also believe in love after love after love after love. It goes without saying, I get tested a lot. Not that I believe in their testing methodology but I'll play along, for now.

Ever since I was a salamander, I've wanted to be a Budweiser frog. Our pond was next door to a sports bar and we''d get to see all the games from atop our lily pads. The only role

Ever since I was a little boy, I've wanted to be a cereal filler. My father worked at the Campbells plant in Paris, TX and he spent all his time there with the cereal filler. He'd

Ever since I was a little girl, I have wanted to be a serial killer. I think part of it was that I wanted to get my middle name out there. I always hated it. Prechisme. That would

connected with the bones of his world. The glass & steel towers seemed to cut Blasted off from that. Forewarned is forearmed, thought Blasted as he entered The Keep. The glass was

in your misty milieu for it puts me at a disadvantage. Much more than if you had remained the blue kitten in my foggy forest." The units considered each other across the aeons. Lla

For my part, having a yeast infection was something I could have done without on any day but especially today, at my daughter's funeral. Then to have my buns treated thus by this

the Gulf of Mexico. So much, in fact, that the endless stairs go bone dry as if they already weren't. This always confuses my bird's eye because that is how I am with myself. Souls

don't mind my squalor. I can still make you holler for a dollar, but you'll have to wear the collar. If not, don't bother. As for your funk trunk books, the ones the lungfish took

values that were pounded into my head with a rock when I was but four years old. Even so, I know that if the baby is in my stomach, I must have eaten it. Perhaps it was in that dis

you can grow your own cucumber. You can grow some real big ones. So big that, well... heh, let's just say sometimes the prolapse is worth it. Raw bacon might skeeve ya out for a

I had something to say about the fog but my mind is so foggy just now that I don't have the foggiest notion what it might have been that I was going to say about fog. And the mist!

The first time i didn't mean to but the second time was on purpose. I didn't want any of those things to actually happen.

Which is why I don't go anywhere. BRB, going to the drive thru.

Speaking of breathing, I am afraid of my own going. Coming, I have no problem with. Overstaying my welcome is a given. Imagining the welcome in the 1st place, par for the course.

and Marshall's bald head couldn't stop it on time. If we threw him under the bus, we might buy some time to hike our Lederhosen down to flash them Prester John's imaginary map. Pry