beauty, we never forget it. the real-time imprint on the heart of object, music, person is a Vasco da Gama love fountain. no photograph…
a Polaroid: the kid is super Michael Jackson-y with powder white face, Baby Jane Hudson red lips in a smear, corn yellow…
MSG floats like a brown cloud in the bar. i’m having a beer with friends. a clot of indie lesbians are chowing down, chop- sticks like…
the homo recog, when did it happen? when did i know for sure that it wasn’t going to be Geigering girls? i remember feeling…
i was in charge of both of them, junior and senior. how did that happen? did i have an inkling (or did my classmates) that i was, you know…
my mom was in a recuperation house after having a piece of her lung cut out. (T.B.) i was 11 or 12. because she was away, they thought it’d…
have often been my best friends well before ‘fag hag’ made it into the cynical repertoire. beginning with high school…
i was at the Rat in the early 80’s watching some hot band get hot. the kid next to me was bobbing his head a-rhythmically…