I felt betrayed, the way you do when you discover that your cat has a secret secondary life and is being fed by neighbors who call him something stupid like Calypso.
Half the people I know have dead animals in their freezers: reptiles, birds, mammals. Is that normal?
What other people call dark and despairing, I call funny.
Identify
You haven't lived until you've sailed
When young, the animals were sweet. Then one day they became moody and violent, like human teenagers
When I bleat here on page seventeen, do you want me to just bleat or to really let go and ‘bleat, bleat’? I asked. I feel like ‘bleat, bleating,’ but if Mother/Destroyer is going to be crawling throu...
What you call your personality, you know?—it’s not the actual bones, or teeth, something solid. It’s more like a flame. A flame can be upright, and a flame can flicker in the wind, a flame can be exti...
What are you, tap dancing up there? You want a put on a show, do you? Well, the theater's closed for the night. Take your act on the road; it's four o'clock in the morning,goddamnit.
Were they to charge you ten cents per napkin, they would undoubtedly make them much thinner so you'd need to waste even more in order to fight back the piping hot geyser forever spouting from the litt...
We would pass the afternoon at Ya Ya’s table, eating stringy boiled meat served with spinach pie. The food tasted as though it had been cooked weeks beforehand and left to age in a musty trunk. Her me...
The squirrel and the chipmunk had been dating for two weeks when they ran out of things to talk about.
The last time I was up at five was because I hadn’t gone to bed yet.
The Romanians really do lead the world when it comes to cursing. What have you got for me? I asked a woman from Transylvania who was now living in Vienna. Shove your hand up my ass and jerk off my shi...
One burner represents your family, one is your friends, the third is your health, and the fourth is your work.
Now it seems cruel, abusive even, but this all happened before the invention of self-esteem, which, frankly, I think is a little overrated.
Neither of them had ever picked up a pen in their life, but all of a sudden they’re poets, right, like that’s all it takes—being in love.
Man ordering at Butera’s deli/prepared-foods counter: Hey, give me one of them chickens what spins around.
Low ceiling, stone walls, a dirt floor stamped with paw prints. I never go in without announcing myself. 'Hyaa!' I yell. 'Hyaa. Hyaa!' It's the sound my father makes when entering his toolshed, the cr...
Love seemed all the sweeter when it was misunderstood, condemned by the outside world.