fickle trumpet

Someday i'm gonna be just like him. Terry had short red hair, an impish snub nose and glistening chestnut eyes. He wrote for a magazine called "God", which specialized in nude pictures of attractive children. Terry was a charming and intellectual man who knew how to cook, sew and clean. Instead of a penis he had a beautiful tortoise shell ballpoint pen, oh how it wrote! One of his freckles was actually a pupil and often in the middle of storms he would see his High School Janitor. He spoke perfect English and knew every word of the "Sweet Valley High" series. He didn't mean to have red hair,but it was there.

aloha,forever.

Poor,beige me. The pattern I always crave is to crave a pattern. I will never be that person, although there is still time?? Sometimes it's not so simple. I walk through the tunnel and there he is, that crazy black man with the potion. He doesnt care that my entire neck and chest are covered in oozing rashes. He knows what the government has been up to. There are cracks in everything spilling in light of course BUT darkness is more thread like, unwinding,uncoiling,unresponsive. I thought I was unclear but the true true true ultimate beauty is that I float above the clear, I help myself to the feast of layers.

Ben Pagano

Riddle me this...what happens to a chicken when it lays an egg? What does it feel like? Slightly painful? Unbearable? Perhaps divine? My stomach is bloated, my mind is cloudy.

Diner Dyke

Im going to get my period soon and my boobs are swollen and huge. Today on the subway I was seated between an old woman who kept falling asleep on me and a disgusting young Jew on acid (or shrooms,etc)..the Jew said something to me, something I couldn't quite understand..I am upset that I will never know. Few things are more terrifying then a man with glazed,bloodshot eyes. It gives the appearance of a man on the edge, a rapist if you will. After I put the little girl to sleep, I watched a documentary about a girl with no moisture in her skin,and no ability to shed dead skin..thus creating a child with bright red,constantly peeling skin with no distinct facial features. I was disgusted at myself and America for watching this and changed the channel to Degrassi.. just in time to see a girl getting molested by her Father (the girl with the large chin..) Living in New York has exposed me to all shuffles of the sad,and at least once a day I am overwhelmed by sadness for someone or something. I am trying as hard as I can!!! I am still deeply confused about what to do though,matters of the part. My craving is specific and I was once told "never go to the same source for a different outcome." I will meet the Guido of my dreams at the Jersey shore this weekend.

rooftop rick

I always wanted to fuck a redhead but Mama said they was no good. Said the Devil was red too and did I want to go to hell? Ever since I was little I loved that red hair. But I knew Mama wouldnt approve so I had to sneak around. I found me a real pretty little redhead girl at the Beaver hut,took her home and didnt do nothin but touch that hair all night. I smelled it too,smelled like fresh ice cream..smelled like a paper graded by my 7th grade teacher. I wanted to touch her but I was afraid. What if Mama was right?

nuclear weapons

Humid Monday night. Smoky glaze, when I close my eyes I see flowers and sometimes a beautiful girl ice skating. I love nothing more than to be touched, and my sensation builds. I am very lucky,I give myself time and space..I let things settle. I sink and sink and smile a little. I have done this before,I know this man and I feel magical. I smile more and sigh. I feel more than I can, I explore more than I can explain. "This is me" I often think. I feel in my element,on a homemade raft floating around the tropics. I love this man and in this moment I feel simply fantastic. 

kidney,now!

Lima beans rained from the heavens,each child opened their mouth wide for a taste of decadence. The adults were all cupping their hands and grabbing every bean they could. Yes Tommy, this was a different time. A time of famine,a time of adaptation. Things were not the way they were and were they the way they are before? Of course not! With each bean came a special message,seen only by the town beauty, Anastasia. She could not read though, her beauty prevented her from an education as she was pregnant almost every 4 months. See Tommy, back then pregnancy was 4 months and each month was a chance for the growing being to become a better dancer. Dancing was what it was all about, oh yes! But more importantly the homeless had taken control of all the sewage systems. You couldn't pee without performing in those days. To pee meant to perform, hence the Lima beans. I remember doing a majestic and moving piece to a old Indian song and the homeless man guarding bowl 77 merely smirked and danced back,eyes ablaze. I couldn't outdo him Tommy, I couldn't. Scrapleg Mcgee was his name. Oh he was a rough one, a true soldier of the sun. The sun wore funny little glasses when I was a young man. Dark glasses all day, all night. He could never really see..or so I thought. One day I caught him staring at me,looking me up and down like a piece of meat. It was then I realized that the sun was not a he at all! He was just a dandelion like everything else in the sky. I laughed and shrugged, oh well so much for porridge today!

Latin Lettuce

I walked down the first aisle,looking for her picture. I knew a thing or two about a thing or two. I took a mental picture of the Indian guy touching himself. Something was off with that one. Down the stairs were the peep shows. Part of me was excited,part of me was disgusted. I didnt know who would be behind the curtain. I wanted it to be her but it was a dark want. I chuckled to myself,felt like I was a rookie again. I glanced down at my hands and saw the wrinkled lines of time,the dark jagged scars. No, certainly not a rookie. The black dude with the accent looks at me funny,maybe he knows I'm a cop. But I got a god damn right to be here,a right to be anywhere I choose. Something sticky on the floor. Best if I don't look down. I ask if she's there that night. The black guy nods and points to the third door on the right. I go in. I sit down. I put in my quarter. The music starts up,something by that fag Prince I think.

Vagina

I took a bite out of my apple and saw a little worm inside. He told me his name was Ted and he was looking for new land to settle on. I recommended Seattle (west coast) as they have a prominent rainfall, hence making the soil softer for my burrowing friend. But Ted was not pleased, yes the soil would be softer but the sky would be grayer. He longed for balance in a world of chaos and asked if I wouldnt mind letting him stay in the apple a bit longer. Care not I said the fly, and put the rest of the apple in my pocket. Later that night I heard a strange noise, I slowly opened my eyes and turned on the light. Ted was stealing from me! he weighed no more then a pencil eraser yet he was carrying my precious vaseline and my swedish massage textbook. We looked at each other for a second. A cold,stern glare between man and worm. Ted? I couldnt believe my Jewish eyes. 

Brian Wilson

hello Professor Longus,

I write this letter to you by candlelight, as the power has cut off in the girls dormatory. Forgive me for spelling errors, seeing as you are an English teacher and all. Over the course of last term I began to feel..feelings for you. Feel emotion beyond the admiration and respect the other pupils have for you. I feel as if I am developing strong and loving feelings for you Professor, feelings I can no longer mask. I also suspect you reciprocate these feelings to an extent, and if I am wrong I apologize for my assumption. I only speak of this because of the way your eyes seem to shimmer when I walk into the classroom, and the times I caught you staring at my blouse. Your soothing and beautiful way with words and poetry brings a tear to my eye, as well as your commitment to Shakespeare. I am Juliet, Professor Longus and you are my Romeo. Perhaps I am being too bold but dare I suggest we meet one night for "extra credit" and see what power the moon has over our desires? The other issue of course is your Wife and Mother to your children, Prudence. I will never forget meeting Prudence at the school Christmas party and staring in disbelief at the women you had bethrothed. Rude as it may sound, she resembles the frog I dissected in lab last week. Oh Professor, I long for you to read poetry to me, for your strong and masculine arms to hold me. I dream of you every night and even keep a small picture of Shakespeare in my locker as a tribute to you. Please have the courage to write back to me. I love you Professor Longus.

Love eternally,

Abigal Porter

barely legal

damn my mom is such a fucking bitch. she thinks she can control me and shit, i dont fucking think so. i'm a grown ass women and i can do whatever the fuck i want whenever i want. if i wanna stay out and get drunk with my friends whats the big deal??? i'm young n sexy and i wanna be wild before i'm all old and shit. if i wanna fuck some guys its cool because i use condoms and even when i dont they pull out so im gonna be fine. i told my mom that and she started to cry! would she rather have a lame ass virgin daughter who cant fuck?? shit, i dont even understand the big deal. i aint addicted to shit and i'm not homeless so whats wrong with a little drinkin n fuckin once and a while?? a little weed here and there also,maybe some coke but only for special occasions like xmas and shit. i'm about to punch my mom in the fucking face and she deserves it seriously for trying to control me like hitler and shit. I AM 16 YEARS OLD, I AINT 12!!!!! my mom should be proud to have such a sexy daughter..i mean i look good what can i say, it aint my fault men like to look at my body and shit. if i wanna wear a bikini top around detroit i can cuz i look good and i dress however the fuck i want. my moms so fucked up, shes jealous of me or something cuz shes all old and boring now and i get men everywhere i go.

animal crackers

Every once and a while I like to go down to Pawtucket River and skip stones. On friday nights I usually go down to "Bessies Bar"for a whiskey or 2. Same thing Saturday and Sunday night for the most part. Got me a real nice women at home,Laura Sue. Used to be a real beauty for she had kids. Sometimes I get a glimpse of how she looked back in High School,prettier then a rose that girl was. Life on the road aint easy, don't get me wrong. I'm gone every couple a weeks,delivering all kinds of shit to every place imaginable. My specialty is Arcade Machines. Those shits is heavy and not every guy can handle one. I remember one time I dropped one on my foot and broke it. John Harrow had a real hoot n holler that day. See,me and John been in a competition of sorts for damn near 3 years. He thinks he can drive faster and further then me,but anyone who seen me drive knows damn well I drive faster then a tumbleweed in a hurricane. He beat me once, and that sonofabitch will never let anyone forget it. 

Chubby Checker

Sometimes at night It's as if I can feel Jesus's spirit inside me. He tells me to do things and I just know I have been chosen to be his loyal and faithful follower and companion. Jesus doesn't just go around talking to anyone and guiding them! I have been selected from billions of people to represent the Lord and savior himself. When I speak to him it's as if he's already inside my mind, he consumes and rules me and allows me to carry out his plans. Jesus has many plans for all kinds of people. Why, just the other day his voice popped into my head and I felt a tingle down my spine. He told me to go next door to Mr. Lawsons house and of course I obeyed. Well what do you know, Mr. Lawson was passed out cold on his kitchen floor. Looked like he had slipped on something and hit his head. Well, I went over to him and placed my pure and Christian hands against his chest and I felt his holy spirit consume me. I became Jesus in that moment and brought back Mr. Lawson with the greatest of ease. He was so startled and scared all he could manage to say was "thank you." I just laughed with a gleam in my eye-"don't thank me...thank Jesus."

people who need people

In the recent wake of the bake sale, I've come to the conclusion that all is not what it seems to be. and with whom you may ask? Everything. I walked down the street just feeling and listening and in that moment I had all I could ever ask for. Every fiber of my being in harmony, not just harmony but absolute perfect balance. And how do I know this? Because I exist. Existence is perfection. I am seperated from my thoughts, I have finally started to watch them instead of being consumed by them. Life is changing for me now that I am observing. My mind will not use me any more to feed my ego. Ah yes "The Ego." That voice of pain, suffering,indecision. Feeding me negativity and forcing me to question every single aspect of my life. It's still there, but I am now aware. Awareness and Intention are all I can hope to achieve. I sit on the Subway, breathing, being. Every day I will work a little more at accepting the present. We are not our thoughts. We are tricked by the ego into thinking so. At the core of my being I am just that. A being.

mothafucka

As if any of you know what it's like to be a Mother. EVERY SINGLE DAY I deal with this this bullshit-feeding her,changing her diaper, whatever- you name it. I wish I had listened to my Mom, I wish I had listened to my Guidance Counselor,my best friend. WHY did I marry young!? What was my rush!! I used to be beautiful, I used to have charisma. A personality. Now I'm just a "Mother", a suburban one at that. Disgusting. I am disgusted with myself. I'm just like every other bitchy soccer Mom in Connecticut. I even wear those generic solid colored T-shirts with the pocket. Boy, Have I fucking changed. It's like the second I got married to Mark I wasn't allowed to have fun or be my own person. And once they baby came, forget about it. I'm only 34 and I feel like I'm 60 years old living in a nursing home. Shit, now it's too late to do anything I wanted to do. And no, having Children was not my only dream. Yea, ya hear all these stories about Mothers going back to school but when you actually have a child you realize it's damn near impossible. Who's going to watch Tiffany? Me and Mark can't even afford a sitter. Not to mention,the stability and security (and happiness) he promised me when we got married was a total lie. I am exhausted. I am bored. I am terrified of my future. Damn, the baby is crying.

mirror mirror

The reason things from the past hurt me so much is because they hurt "past Izzy." I feel how upset my past self is, how stupid and innocent. Perhaps I am too prideful a person, but I have never been one to forgive and forget. I am hurt deeply by others pasts, things that have been done to me, things I wish could have happened. More so then things in the present. At least in the present I have a chance to rest and digest, to process and act upon my feelings. I feel like my past self is helpless and has no control. This is a terrible burden to live with, as we all know "the past is the past." But what if you can't stop thinking about things. Should I chalk it up to my zany over-analyzing self? Or should I give into the feelings and cut people out of my life? Ah yes but by people I of course mean myself and my reactions. You can't change others but you can change your perception of them. I want to set myself free from this but I don't know how. It is quietly and not so quietly affecting my relationships with others. Do they know? Maybe not. Maybe. If you can't come to terms with the past, you clearly can not be comfortable in the present. Never trust UPS with a package.

below

Dear Maury,
I myself was once a lost soul, a "slut" in a sea of confusion. I was 13 years olds and desperate to get pregnant. I pretty much dropped out of school when I was 12, and lived with my 18 year old boyfriend. Every morning I would wake up,climb out of bed (my boyfriends bathtub:( ) and turn on your show. Those weekday mornings at 10 really got me through some tough times. Anyway, I was 12,sad, bored and confused, so naturally I decided what would be best was for me to have a baby. I needed something to love Maury, something that could truly love me back. Plus babies are so cute, if they're not all fucked up looking and shit. So I started having sex with my boyfriend without protection. This went on for about 3 months and I still wasn't getting pregnant. I decided to step it up a notch and started sleeping with every single man I saw. Yea I got the usual sob story (herpes), but I also learned alot about myself. I learned that poking holes in condoms is a risky and tedious task and I also learned that I have alot of depth and think about things alot. So here I am, 13 and sleeping with practically every man I see and one day I woke up next to my schools 43 year old Janitor and thought to myself. "No. No, Misty you will not do this to yourself any more. You are too young to have a child." But it was too late Maury. One week later I found out I was pregnant. I want to end this on a positive note though. I am now 18 years old and going to Cosmetology school. I am proudly married to that Janitor and have 2 more kids. So thank you Maury, Thank you for changing my life and showing me the true way to love.
Love,
Misty Johnson

onion soup

wow what a mind! Science gives you a brain,your environment gives you a mind. My mind is more often then not my greatest enemy. My tendency to over analyze is slowly but surely killing me and draining me of all my inhibitions. This curse turns into a gift when I listen to friends issues and problems, but when it comes to my own life, over analyzing will do nothing but cause me to make rash and unfair decisions. I wish I could just look at my life as a random third party but ah yes I have something called emotion. So where is the fine line between a healthy thought process and an obsessive negative outlook? Through meditation and a strong subconscious I have begun the long and tedious road of change. Every day for an hour I try to gently push negative thoughts out of my mind. I acknowledge the thought, then let it pass. Easier said then fucking done. To not harp on a frightening thought is one of the hardest things humans can do. Ahhhhhhh I just wish I didn't have any negative thoughts to begin with. I think about a specific thought a hundred times a day and it's exhausting and useless. Worry is a useless emotion. On a lighter note, May has been good to me for quite a few reasons. I finally finished Menopause (thank god) and I got that Golden Retriever I've wanted for weeks. Ever since Larry started traveling for the company,my days and nights are filled with loneliness. This dog will really help keep my company until Larry gets back from Canada. Sure,the kids have been great but they have their own lives, Mom isn't cool enough to spend time with them. Being married isn't what I thought it would be. The brief relief I felt after marriage only lasted a few months. I now feel even more stress and jealously then I felt before. Now that Larry is only home a few days out of the year, I'm just not sure were going to make it. I don't want to be single and old. I love him I just don't think I'm happy.