8.12 / December 2013

“I won’t think about that now. I’ll think about it tomorrow, when I can stand it!”

They dawdled over coffee, loitered over wine. Laid rolls to waste before an indifferent clock. Her chair teetered between two stairs; food fled her plate. Her face a dish he sent back. She pinned infidelities to his lapel. He brushed them off like ashes. Even at starting a fight: impotent.

Fly to Greece. On the plane, finger your sister’s favorite charm, a red heart sacrificed from her Pandora bracelet, now tucked into your pocket. Avoid thinking of the last time you saw her, plucking out the final strands of her russet hair and sending them floating out the passenger window of your Cherokee.

My father was a fan of work-ethic clichés—no pain no gain—but sometimes a scream just pings against bark and nothing much comes of it.

Sometimes I wish I had a part of my body that I could know about that wasn’t on the outside.

you are too young to know what you’ll have to swallow in this life and too old to refuse food. the beauty of good sauce, thick and sweet, is that it is equality for all manner of fowl.

[wpaudio url=”/audio/8_12/Poly.mp3″ text=”listen to this poem” dl=”0″] On days away from the cave, Polyphemus rents DVDs from the kiosk outside the nearby butcher’s.

[wpaudio url=”/audio/8_12/Great.mp3″ text=”listen to this story” dl=”0″] Day after day, Daniel Avery watched his weary father shuffle out the front door and off to work, until eventually he got it in his head that he should try doing the same.

When Mr. Rappaport opens the box of dead minks in trash bags, you know it’s going to be a bad day. Then you learn that the minks aren’t just for today; you’ll dissect the minks slowly, exposing each organ system, from now through next week.

We made outrageous demands on each other no matter the horrors