You Have To Know What

Gossip Is The Foul Smell From The Devil's Backside.

Eating Plain Toast Will Detonate Her. "i'll Have Some Honey." When The Bread Is Done I Scrape On A Microscopic Layer Of It And Pour A Cup Of Coffee, Black. She Pretends Not To Listen Or Watch As I Crunch Through My Breakfast. I Pretend That I Don't Notice Her Pretending.

There Is Something About Christmas That Requires A Rug Rat. Little Kids Make Christmas Fun. I Wonder If Could Rent One For The Holidays.

He Doesn't See My Breasts Or My Waist Or My Hips. He Only Sees The Nightmare.

Here Stands A Girl Clutching A Knife. There Is Grease On The Stove, Blood In The Air, And Angry Words Piled In The Corners. We Are Trained Not To See It, Not To See Any Of It. . . . Someone Just Ripped Off My Eyelids.