I Think You Would Like

When My Mother Died, My Father's Early Widowhood Gave Him Social Cachet He Would Not Have Had If They Had Divorced. He Was A Bigger Catch For The Sorrow Attached.

The Only Time The Word Baby Doesn't Scare Me Is The Time That It Should, When It Is What A Man Calls Me.

An Idea Might Spark An Essay, But Never A Story.

Then The Children Went To Bed, Or At Least Went Upstairs, And The Men Joined The Women For A Cigarette On The Porch, Absently Picking Ticks Engorged Like Grapes Off The Sleeping Dogs. And When The Men Kissed The Women Good Night, And Their Weekend Whiskers Scratched The Women's Cheeks, The Women Did Not Think Shave, They Thought Stay.

I Moved Through The Days Like A Severed Head That Finishes A Sentence.