Junk.

It’s tea lights in old soup cans, and sparkling champagne glasses alive with bubbles. Hay bales and twine. Wooden letters and skeleton keys. My grandmother flying in with freshly cut silver locks and a bear hug that leaves one the good kind of breathless. There will be cake. A new dress for...

 So. Looks like this year's party platter will include vicodin and soma, which they say is a step up from last year's vicodin and flexeril. We'll see. Maybe. If I end up taking any. It's quite odd though. The timing. Made the call exactly one year after the first surgery. And now here I am,&...

She stood heavily before his likeness in the frigid marble hallway – hair tucked hastily behind studded ears, the tongue of one converse all-star hidden in the space between her deteriorating sole and white ankle sock. Breathing. Dr. Gertmenian served the Nixon and Ford administrations as a...

I still hate that guy I met in LA that one time who told me I'd never amount to anything as a writer. I knew him all of fifteen minutes. And there we sat, in a gay bar in Venice surrounded by glitter and disco balls. His lipstick glistened as he smashed his hairy man titties t...

My skin still tastes of your mouth, love. My face still red, from last night's bed sheets. I was out back, trying to smoke away pangs of electricity pulsating throughout my lower back - should have been more careful - when I almost got dive bombed by a cluster of angry birds. An eye for…

A tithe for your pardon, my sweet, sweet friend – Tengo pero pocas palabras with which to convey el asunto a mano. Foot. Leg. Whatever. Mi inglés no está bueno And my Spanish is even worse. But I dreamt in both, anoche, And when I cut it open there was nothing there, nada dent...

 ... and then, you know, budget cuts. And he gets laid off. And I knew this would happen but I did it anyway. And I can't help thinking what for. Why fucking bother. I could stay in a hole. Right here. Get good and numb and forget about it anyway. Forget about what? Exactly.

And so there we were. On the edge of Riverside, surrounded by naked living room walls and boxes – so many boxes – dripping sweat and storage dust all over what was a freshly mopped hard wood floor a mere few hours before. A two headed, tattooed tidal wave – my love and myself. T...

Day three. Here we go again. It's not in my legs. At least not yet. But it's there in the core. Right in the small that makes it feel so damn big. And so small. Like Stretch Armstrong when you pull his limbs to the point of breaking. Rubber bands all cracked and taught. Like…

 My weekend of highs and lows began early on Saturday morning as my love gently tickled my back with work weathered fingers and my ears with a sweet and spontaneous promise. A journey, he declared, is upon us. And with that, he eagerly wafted the sweet smell of black coffee beneath my nose b...