Archives for the month of: April, 2014

anenometer2The barber. The brickfielder. The chinook. The cyclone. The diablo. The haboob. The loo. The maestro. The mistral. The November witch. The pali. The Santa Anas. The sirocco. The squamish. The sumatra. The white squall. The zephyros.


apus crustaceanShe presses her thumbs in. “Your splenius. Your scapulae. Your supraspinatus, infraspinatus. Rhomboid, trapezius, deltoid. Your teres minor, teres major. Latissimus dorsi.” So much lovely latinate. So much bunched up syntax resolving itself into sentences. Floating here on the massage table in heated flannel sheets, timeless, mindless. Nominative, genitive, vocative. Whatever she wants to call it.


apsidesNext time, I amĀ out of here for good. Next time, there will be no next time. You heard that right. No. I’m gone. I’m history. I’m not coming back.

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