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...

my thoughts crash into you with a great ache of rejectionmy face turned towards yours, you look awayassaulted vision, you with someone elsemy sacred vault spill outmy vulnerability on displaywords tumble from my lipsones of hurt and sadnessuntil it...