I shot my muse down in starlight
Watched his soul fly up sky high.
He’s a skeleton, sardine ribs
In a metal tin.
I saw my burdens disappear,
Overhead vultures settled near.
I mopped up his last pawprints,
Leaned the mop outside to rinse.
I still haven’t journaled in over a yea...

I know now that I have always dreaded that name. Mary, an embalmed name, like a brooding English queen or a dour old maid who corrals the schoolchildren in the courtyard. Or Mary, disgusting white trash: Appalachian royalty, Camel Crush and baby bump. It is an evil name, a darkly silent sprawl for thousands of acres...

Many thoughts pass me by every day. I picture myself standing on my knees in the ocean, letting each idea race down my salty skin and return to the great depths; then I slink triumphantly to the shore and leave no trace of the water on my shiny, sunny self. This is the ideal. In fact, I am millions of miles from th...