Lola's Grandmother didn'tlike the Irish.Lola said,"For fuck's sake, don't tellher you're Irish.She hates the Irish.""Why?" I asked."I don't know.  She doesthough, so don't evenmention the Irish."Lola was my girlfriendmany years ago inCalifornia.She had long black hairand the eyes of a...

  Cathy always sat ina small booth at theend of the bar.She had that empty cuploneliness, the kind thatnever goes away.We got drunk together anddanced like puppets inprison, injured by the night.Tarantulas and scorpionscrawled the desert of her heart.And I...

Prefer you my romantical ghostwith beating heart and spiritascending from this graveto show I still love you?  Prefer you a love-letterfrom the depths of my grave?A letter penned in ink,or in the tears from my veins?Prefer you to pluck...