This little boy has forgotten how he was made. He is old enough to know he can’t ask his teddy bear, but he is still young enough to love that bear and believe that it can feel the same pain and joy that the boy does. This boy knows he can’t ask his mother because…
there is no romantic connecticut the text says, but I don’t take this as rejection. I don’t blame autocorrect. I read her words again, but can only see Connecticut, cut with all beauty this time of year —clean snow over old hedges and children sliding streets in stiff jackets—how could it not be a contender?…
After you left, a goat took up residence in the left ventricle of my heart. I didn’t know about my little stowaway at first. I thought I simply wished to say “no” more often and while screaming. I thought the quality of my enunciation had merely slipped the same way my housekeeping had. I thought…
Boy
Boy, on the night your mother brought you into this noisy, miserable world, at exactly 11:18 pm, on a rainy Thursday, your father reclined in his Toyota car outside the Emergency Unit and sucked on the titties of a nurse, the same nurse with the pointy bra and four-inch heels who was your mother’s best…
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