Springtime. In yogateacherland that means detoxes. Twist. The liver is on the right side of your body. Or is that correct? Maybe it is the left. Either way, cross that right leg over your left leg. Settle those seatbones on your mat. You can put your left leg out straight if you need to. Now, right arm out behind you- straight spine - left elbow to the outside of your right knee.
And twist.
With each breath drawing in and up, rotating towards the back of the room, towards the other side. All those dark wintery things that have been...
Drowning in the sea. That was the trick of it. To be seen to swoon, to fall to the bottom. The pretend to expire. It was the pearls that weighed me down. They alway do. Spiros bought them for the moon. That is what he said. The moon. As if the moon had a price. All things had a price. He gave them to me in the back garden of the hotel under a moon that was more red that white. A bad luck moon. But the band played on in the gallery and couples in their best passed under...
Wine. The one I was forced to drink tasted sour. I could imagine what it was doing to my insides. The bottle forced between my teeth was going to shatter any moment, I knew it.
Waking up in hospital days later, I wasn't surprised to see lacerations on my face from the glass. The doctors tried to stop me from taking a look and wanted the bandages to stay on, but I always preferred to face reality rather than avoid it.
A psychologist was brought in, and I went through the motions. I didn't need anyone to soften the blow...
Disappeared into the cityscape,
hiding unintentionally,
friend to only the birds,
for they are the only ones who
will keep this lone soul company.
On days like these, it's easier
for him to just stay in the shadows,
he has, after all, been living as
one. A familiar shadow of his former
life before he had succumbed to
the circumstances that brought
him to this humble time in his life,
whatever they may have been-
drugs, loss of a job, mentally
unstable. But this man was- and still
is- a man. Although it may not seem
like it on this...
Potatoes.
That's all the six year old girl would eat. And it seemed that no matter what else I tried to serve her, potatoes was it. She wouldn't try anything else. Wouldn't look at anything else. All she ever wanted? Potatoes.
"Honey, what are we supposed to do?" I sighed, sliding into bed that night. "We went out to the Olive Garden. And she asked for potatoes!"
My husband chuckled a little. "Well, look on the bright side: at least it's a vegetable she wants. Could be worse."
"This is bad enough! No protein! No grain! Heck, even sugar would...
They gathered in the woods. Huddled together, shoulders pressed against each other for warm and support and that deep basic desire for some sort of human contact.
"It's good to see you again John," an unclean, wirey man nodded to his fellow and they clapsed hands.
"You too. Have you news?"
"None. There hasn't been much activity the past month." The man nodded grimly as he listened.
"One of our nests got hit, we lost a few, but the rest of us are fine."
"How about the rest of you?" The other members of the circle, three men and one...
Proles. Can't live with them, cant get elected without them. If I had my way, we'd remove them from the process entirely and let the "adults" handle the important stuff. Sure, we'll throw them a bone every once in a while, you know, just to keep up the illusion that they hold some sort of sway, but honestly, who cares what they really think.
The worst are the ones who try to organize. Luckily, all it takes is a well-timed act of violence. Hell, sometimes it doesn't even require anything more than a vague threat. Remember the dairy farmer uprising?...
There was a party in the upstairs of the building. On the roof. It was my building too. I had lived there for many years. Paying rent, not having a pet (not allowed), putting up with all the noise and rubbish in the hallways and out. There was a lot of nastiness, to be sure, but it was my home. Come to find out, its the building's owners giving the party. A corporate landlord business that aims to put themselves first and the people trying to live in their wasted spaces last. The party was buzzing, I could hear the...
We were out of gin. The night was off to a great start. How was I suppose to get blackout drunk within an hour. I had a case of beer but none were cold. I left the apartment and walked over to the liquor store. I'd eventually get there and then I'd return and get drunk.
Why the hell was it all the way down the block. Not to complain, but that was actually great. It kind of was a problem when week after week the same routine went down.
"If you just waited, we could've went to a bar"...
i woke up in a drab, dark room that smelled as if it had not been cleaned in 100 years. I felt a rag over my mouth. i knew that if i dared take so much as a breath, i would slip back into chloroform induced darkness. i tried to reach up and brush the rag from my face, only to discover i could barely move. i struggled, but only succeeded in throwing the rag from my face. i saw a figure in the doorway. he threw back his hood and spoke. *there is gold in these hallways, and you...