In Roller Derby. . . . a special name for floor burn from fishnet stockings.
I wake With death in my mouth. Before I wash it out, I start with Ten reasons why I cannot take my own life. One–Suicide is selfish, Especially for you. You help so many people. What would they do Without you? Two–Who else Can make Algebra fun? All your students need you. Three–Who would get friends Out in sun Working dirt into green things? You are the only one. Three–if
For a basic (one might suppose inherently neutral) law of physics, the phrase has nevertheless garnered a lion’s share of unfriendly users in the low-rent back roads of the vernacular. Many among us, in truth, would far prefer the virulent lash of a “Bitch!” or a “Bastard!” to being leveled by the contemptuous (and worse, dismissive) charge of taking up space. How did this bland and
The mind and body don’t always agree On who should control all, or at least most, Of one network. The mind says thought is free, But the body remains a jealous host. Without guidance, the body will just sleep And gorge and fantasize at the expense Of exercise—the stirring of our deep Desires is often only decadence. So, sometimes the mind needs to crack the whip And firmly bend the
I spoon fed you my last visit. We played the choo-choo game with your yams. Your brown eyes lit up as the locomotive utensil unloaded its cargo in your hungry mouth. Was it me, your daughter, you smiled at, or a dim memory of your own mother’s face as she performed the same tender gesture for a little child so long ago?