You can’t trust lesbians. You invite them …
Bob Hicok
I sell one bristle brushes. People …
My wife went into the pantry for peaches …
The best job I had was moving a stone …
I called a man today. After he said …
He has five children, I’m papa …
He was hit back of the head for a haul of $15, …
We were young and it was an accomplishment …
Nobody I know is a god. A mother and son …
I'm in a plane that will not be flown into a building. …
I heard from people after the shootings. People …
At forty-eight, to be given water, …
It was a misunderstanding. …
I met my butt in a Pittsburgh …
Our fathers have formed a poetry workshop. …
You could drive out of this country …
A cooler …
The telephone company calls and asks what the fuss is. …
Eros scrabbles to rose and rage …
Historians will tell you my uncle …
She does this thing. Our seventeen- …