DementedLittlePixie

People Are Awful                  If I’d known what was going to happen that day, I probably would have broken up with him by phone. It’s not even my problem. It’s Ben’s problem. He was late. He’s always late. Not so much now, but anyway. He was late, and he knew I’d be angry. But I wasn’t angry because I knew that all I was going to say to him was:                  It’s over, we’re finished, I’m ending it, I never want to see you again, we’re breaking up, you disgust me, I’m leaving, don’t call me.                  So it didn’t bother me whether he was five minutes o

When I grow old I want          a thousand                           laugh-lines. For when rainbows dilute and notebooks fatten on time’s untimely passing, when the moon falls out of kilter with a sun that curdles in a sad, forgotten sky, and the rain congeals inside the clouds when the slurry of seconds sinks deep into my bones and my skin crumples like parchment, my spine coils and splinters and my fingers buckle, knuckle-cracking - when my dreams fa

tell me about continents and oceans and i'll tell you about highways and planes.            continents -            fall apart            you say,            oceans -            destroy them and i say: but look, that isn't an ending, that's just change.            pangea was            beautiful,            it didn't            need to change. and i say: we all need to change, even beauty must adapt. and i say: i adapted, pangea adapted, why can't you?            all that distance,            you say,            all those miles.            there is an ocean            between us. and i say: highway

Biology They didn’t teach us anything important in high school. I remember you, negotiating with your back to the class in those giant 80s glasses, as the teacher took a break from his boy’s own stories of pissing tigers and Vietnamese cobras swaying in the tall grass to expose himself: Being beautiful isn’t enough to get you through life, sweetheart. Now at his age, I sit in front of my laptop at an upscale bar and lay you open over a California roll, chicken tortilla soup, and coffee with cream: It seemed like life would be easy for you. Has it been? You reply that you were in your twenties before you started

your love is the wind on water.  mine heaves deeper than cruel riptide.

document 1. may 17th. "if this is how it starts how hard is the rest going to be?" may 18th passes.  so does june 22nd. in the time between and after, I am left only with my birds and the rain and it rains all the time. august 7th.  I can no longer hear the geiger-counter clicking of the gutters over the echoes of crows and car horns, though the mud that devours my shoelaces each morning tells me the storm still hits while I'm asleep. november 24th and even the pigeons have gone.  buildings boarded up, graffiti all over my car. nothing shiny left for them to shit on. january 6th now-- eight

Georgie Porgie threw an orgy      just outside L.A., where Jack Be Nimble grabbed his thimble,      outing him as gay... Little Jack Horner bought Time Warner      before the bubble burst, though Jumping Jack Flash saw the crash      and liquidated first... Jack said Jill was taking the Pill      to ward off impregnation; the Three Blind Mice have lobbied twice      for victim's compensation... Little Miss Muffet had her tuffet      liposuctioned out, and L

October 14th            Dear diary, I am going to die. Well, obviously. That sounds pretty existential, so let me clarify: I am going to die in the very near future. There are a number of ways it could happen now and none of them are very appealing. Every trip I’ve ever taken has involved some sort of disaster: arriving at the bus terminal late, lost luggage, flight cancellations. But I’d never experienced a plane crash before.            I was going to Paris. I told my wife it was a business trip but, here’s the kick