Pick up a copy
There are things I cannot prove
I have to do this
One day Robert-Robert awoke with a cold.
The doctor has warmed the speculum in her latex-gloved hand
It is clear we are at a crossroads
I remember your fat, blubbery shoulders, the freckles, the way you swam slowly
Zulus boxed in their glass cases
When I am asked I say I'm a quiet lad. I pick no fights.
There are more pigs than people
The first time I saw Annie
Sure, there are minor inconveniences
New York City all the way
She's so close the air feels compressed
A lonely old mother died and left her sprawling house to her twin daughters, Chalk & Cheese.
A row of white crosses
Once upon a time, a single language
Picture me resplendent
The school sat among maples on a hillside
My mother is sleeping
I think I'm still pretty good-looking, considering, I mean.
Contrary to popular belief, people think during sex
I've made the final cut.
Cold. Grey dawn breaking in a thin, silver line
The first picture is of oak trees in spring.
So, apart from a couple of hitches, Plan A was working out fine.
I learned to write in school five years before they came.
We sized each other up and decided to be best friends.
Always be aware of your hair.
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