ripped jeans and flannelled fools

Sunday cricket has never been as good as the Sunday you came back from London. we sat on cool grass in the shade you said : like the Spartans at the Hot Gates. i said : youd be the hottest chick at Thermopylae ! sunday brunch : bacon & egg roll from a gourmet JewishContinue reading “ripped jeans and flannelled fools”

life in pastiche, its fantastisch ! #1

BARTHELME ONESTORY MS D NAKOVA’s milk-white Russian cheek blushed red broken maps of Australia everytime she took me to bed. The sandstone walls of her basement apartment coughed up dust and the red flush moved to the tip of her hooked nose, transported by the IGA brand tissues she wiped her allergy-borne mucus with.Continue reading “life in pastiche, its fantastisch ! #1”

I have long carried the following thought(s)/emotion(s) in my head:

  The next installment in my Nunzia Nanzio stories where we leave mike d. and rob g. and go on a walk around the block where they live:  The people who live on and around this narrow, tree-lined, strip remember nothing, have no memories of their past, anything, except for an instinct to use whateverContinue reading “I have long carried the following thought(s)/emotion(s) in my head:”