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«We are here on Earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you different.» —Kurt Vonnegut
Browsing All Posts filed under »rootedinlove«
Rose Petals
February 14, 2010
A supermodel, carrying a large Valentine's box, fell from her considerable, prized height on the ice in front of the grocer's and stayed down, her long, shapely legs distorted somehow.
The Lovesick Taxidermist
February 2, 2010
I was like a taxidermist, trying to give the appearance of life to something that was dead inside me. The truth is, of course, I was only scared. But working so hard to describe the unfathomable made me stronger, too.
The Serious Writer And His Hamster
December 29, 2009
The serious writer has a hamster. The hamster is dying. She drags her hindlegs and pees herself. The spirit of life is still strong in her: she climbs up the cage as she used to, then falls over to one side. Her left eye is half closed. She might have had a stroke.
teenage want
July 27, 2009
Being your slave what should I do but tend Upon the hours, and times of your desire? Shakespeare i do not i do not want i do i do want i do not want to want. i plead instead, i sulk, i defend i talk to my selves at night before the moon before the […]
whispered death
July 11, 2009
the funeral party hurried up the hill following the fat priest with designer glasses. the wind was blowing in their faces so that they had to squint. the light had the subtle quality of a foggy argument among friends. up on the hill by the grave stood the muse of the dead man they had […]
gyoza express
July 1, 2009
i’m removing the bread and what i have now is the dough. it’s shaped like a heart without a purpose, an edge without center, my dream’s nightmarish core. must take a sip of coffee, the sapful spunk, then must move on: my road is not thorny, that’s for Jesus people, my road is smooth the […]
story of smith
June 14, 2009
Eros, mr sex himself, once a formidable winged god & not too hairy, now lives in the suburbs under the name Eros Smith & works for the city’s authorities regulating and policing prostitutes. This sounds exciting but it isn’t. the job’s pure drudgery: the laws are boring & irrelevant & suppressive. the practice of the […]
they fight at night
May 18, 2009
they fight at night when the chest feels tight. oh right, he’s wrong, again, and she’s right, of course she’s right. and he shouts, he always shouts. and then she screams, always screams. now he sulks, always sulking that bastard, i did ask him when we met whether he sulked easily and told him i […]
Flawnt 
March 17, 2010
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