http://slow.writerscafe.org/freading The original writings of author Whiles en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776037666 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 it's a memoir that is simultaneously erotic and about death. But there's a twist! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/544101/ Blaring ACDCin a red Buickwith the windows downis a fine thingListening to ACDCin a grey Mitsubishiis noteasytopull off. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/471251/             My father loved horses. Our first Christmas in America, after the evening mass, I fell asleep in the car between my sisters. I woke to my father lifting me up and carrying me in his arms to my room. He sat on the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/471249/ Face like a flowerI gave you—without knowing—not much of meThe pain, perhaps,of calloused handsplitting me wide But of myself? I hardly think of you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/471245/ These are the songs that slaves sing---F**k youYou can'tBreak meJust tryTry meThe lion sleeps tonight http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/471242/ You smile and your jaw does something to my spineand I'm aliveand miserable.And late, late, lateyou tell me small, sad thingsand I know youknow me. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/471241/ it's mothers--are uncharted territory for girlsour fathers we knowour fathers are strong, our fathers are goodour fathers are gone. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/471240/ My city is perfect because it is not             a city in Michigan.I pissed on the baseball diamond, and stretched my naked back on the tin roof of the dugout, and no one saw me. My city is perfect because I wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/414561/ These long nights in well-lighted placeswhere certainty of dawnis nothing but rumorare all that is leftof grace.There's a bitter herbwhose roots are my bodywhose leaves my sharp wordsand whose blossoms my thoughtsYou, leave me to die hereit's better than livingforever in stat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/397538/ Fear not, myfrightened kittenyour love isthe white cordthat ties me tothis awful machine,earth,but not the chain which growscancerous fromthe gremlin in my throat. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/373454/ Here I am, holdingthis vellumnext to you, my darling.You, likethis parchment,are thin and aesthetic andImportant.I am ripped-jeans wonderful,with my day-old coffee stainstringy hair tilted spectacles—whata spectacle!How can the Professorallow my dirty, s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/370626/ I knew crueltybut I knew nothing ofthe worlduntil I sawa snakeshake with fear. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/364790/ You have an ugly faceand sigh in ALL the wrong places.Why can't I leave you alone?Something about your ugly smile and somethingabout your brown hair.And somethingabout the way you drive under the speed limitwhile listening to tapes I gave you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/351147/ When the towers fellI counted american flagson jeep libertiesand chevy trailblazersfor almost a yeartoday drivingon the parkway I glimpseda coast guard funeraland feltlike a voyeur. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/337004/ My mother was no beauty—long, thin facestraight brown hair andmud-brown eyes.Her charming,blonde,voluptuous daughter musthave seemed like an alien beingButit was my mother’s thin,melancholy handswere grazed by the lipsof a prince. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/336658/ I can’t waituntil the Rapture—when America will returnto wild God’s countryPrinceton will be chokedwith sandpipers and clothedin spruce and boggy skunk cabbage.Detroit will be strangledby giant ferns,its long-abandonedAutomalls now nurseries... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/334176/ What a fresh-faced picture I must have made, leaning against her, face upturned like a goddamn flower.“Say it again” I sang, rapturous as an ingénue in an opera.“Girlfriend. You’re my girlfriend.” she obliged, smiling indulgently at me.&ldqu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/321888/ What did I learnon summer vacation?That cold baked beanswhich should have been hotmerita punch to the jawin a public place.And that madwomen reignbecause neighbors’ eyeswiden, but no onecalls the police. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/321064/ Night—long past when thejazz piano’s been lockedsafely in the billiard room;tall, long shapesthrow firewood on the blaze.Now the songscreep slowly fromJubilates totorch songs,and everyone can hearthe locomotive’swail. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/321063/ I do not wantto buy that dressbecauseit isn’tcellar door.I am not, either,cellar door,but in a dressI ammuch less. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/321062/  Iam striking, arrogant poverty,in my paint-spackled coat and thrift store trousersYou,beautiful in jeans you can't afford to replaceand your peacock earrings.But when you come to me and we meet mouthsand ride all nightI am King, and you are Queen. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/318856/ I wish I was a tomcat, now there's a way to liveI wish I was a tomcat's that's a good way to liveAll them pretty lady-cats got a lot of love to giveI wish I was a tomcat, strolling along the roadI wish I was a tomcaat walkin on down the roadfree from chattanooga, on down to mexico http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/316238/  When I arrivedI was anotherbone to pick.And perhaps a long-awaitedexcuseto fix the front steps.The pine tree had been therebefore.Soon afterward,the soupbecame more important. A bachelor padis notso bare whenlittered with proud apple smilesAnd a womanca.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/310220/  You,shy and boyishyour breasts flatyour voice blankyour mind blankyour luck,bad.I want to wrap your spine in my hands. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/310172/  I am a cleaned cadaver.They took my smile with you,my clown,my shiny teeth and luscious lips andvelvet throat are gone.With you,my sweetheart,vanished my eyesmy sockets bare and empty.And stolen my armsand legs with you,my child,the masts of my bodynowhere to be fou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/310142/  TacomaI picked you a bloom from thecherry treeand you’re missing something if youdo not seethe fireworks show in flea market squareand miss Heather Brown driving with thesun in her hairin her shiny convertible cardon’t wander too far. ‘Cause it&rs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/286654/  And why do they all fade to male?I know this:that in this worldit is easier to make a penisout of a clitoristhan to stand, a strong butch woman,who f***sand fightsandloves her wife. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/286645/ Spoken word poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/286642/ Still waterStill perilous waterstill water still water got a glassy edgebottom is mud and the sky is stoneJackson didn't heed what mama saidboy went swimming he never came home still waterstill nasty waterstill water mama hits the water and starts to moanma.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/275224/ I am not yetbeautiful enoughto write this poem.My feet are crackedand rife withswollen veinsmy hair is shortand brittlemy fingers are stuntedandmy a*sdimpled.One.more.cigarette.But I can seethe perfect starscraped by chance collisionon the mustangbeautifully symmetr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/275222/ I've run outof matches and so--I use the buttof my fresh smokedcigaretteto light the next.I have no moneyto buy my fathera gift or tobuy meatso I watch therosesrotand smile, uneasily,as the italian manplants tomato shoots http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/275221/ To a dumb b***h, in answer toher third letteron this matter:No, I cannot come home to celebrate the 22nd anniversaryof the day I dropped outof your twat.That pubic louse Marcelis forcing me toimmediatelyrewrite all of myf*****g compositionswith cleaner language.Can you beli.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/256321/ If I were KingI’d want noble hounds—their smooth heads resting placesfor my regal handsIf I were King I’d havemarble floors in summerfor the cooling ofroyal feetand braziers in winterto chase the chillaway. If I were King I’d scatterlargesse.I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/256277/ John Braidwood loved his whiskey more than his family business But teaching the deaf was what he did until debtor's prison in 1811. When he came to the New World, gave the english Collectors the slip he landed at Fort McHenry before the rockets' red glare. He drank up a colonel's.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/253047/ You're wearing a white dressand you won't look at me.White is for virginsand oystersbut you--You wear it likethe bravest queen.I can't leave you aloneI can't sleep at nightI drive past ridges onrestless nightslistening to your mix tapeswhich are the sad reasonI fell in l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/253037/ The lunatics come outand shakeby the light of the full moonthe lunatics come outat nightthe lunatics howl and clawat the gagging spoona lunatic puts up a fight peyote eyes and mercury breathand too-low dopaminethe lunatics have chemicalsthey grin and gape andhigh-pitch.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/253034/ I don't write poems aboutthe politics of nationsI like to writeon the human condition.On semen in girls' roomsand the rip in my jeansthat started at my kneeand is creeping slowlyup   my      thigh http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/247992/ At four o'clockthe water's warmand honey coloredat the canal.The snakes baskon the bleached husksof the water-swollen tires,and Queen Anne's Lacegrows profuselyon the hard clay banks. At five o' clockthe broken bodyof a small boywho fell, screaming,from the water t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/247990/ My dog knows she's a dogshe bows her red headfor caressing--her lanky limbs lieacross my lap.A curt word bringscanine tearsand a kiss brings wagsof ecstasy But sometimes she wondersin her hound-wise wayif there isn't more than this?And I am shockedby her doggy shrug.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/247986/ SometimesI think I must beerodingand your teenage wordsaretheacid rain. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/243236/ A glass of whiskeyand rack of lamb;stimulating debateon which candidatewill makethe democratic party—none of these can compare to a child’s squealwhen she finds a hidden Easter egg. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/238685/ I told him I loved him and promised if I was ever single... We shook on it and that was that in his car drunk on kansaswe kissedand both of us knewwhat it meantand I've never needed another man. just because it's cryptic and sparse,(our vulnerable word.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/230692/  I’ll standtwo feet away from youwhen you goafter coming up just to see my showand tell you “safe trip”and not mean itand say nothing in returnwhen you say “I love you” because when I was a little girlyou were so afraid of methat you ca.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/230145/ Du--eine kluge Feedeine jungen Augen sind alter als deineerdlichen Koerper vorschlagt Du schaust mich anund ich gucke zurueckund unsern Blicken sind Eisenoder Eis.     http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/230085/ thesefluorescent lightsmake the dead look livingand the living deadyou don’t careright now; your world is small—my arms around youwrapping you inmy jacketand the porcelein bowl in front of you you heave and retchweaklyagainst meyour grey skin beaded with .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/230071/ I was alone all summer. I.I woke up alone and fed the catsand made coffeechilled with ice and sweetened withhoneyto drink with the birds and cicadasin the haze before the sun dominatedthe day And I'd fix lunch and dinnerbefore the oven's heat became unbearablehot .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/228639/  It is my birthday and I am wearingthe same clothesas yesterdayI don’t feel twelvebut I haven’tin a long time and I don’t feel thirteen either. I help her pull my jeansover my bruised pelvisshe pulls the zipper with her teethand I am bare-le.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/227648/ Den Hasen laufenDie Sonne scheintund ich liebe dich, ich liebe dich Das Reh springt abGebaeude brennenund ich liebe dich, ich liebe dich Das Baar schreitDie Leute schreienund ich liebe dich, ich liebe dichich liebe dich immer http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/227645/  Kleines Madchen---Deine sommersprossig Glieder ringelst meine KoerperWeisst du nicht wieviel will ich dich?Ich will in dir sein,deine winzige Beine um meinen Kopfdeine dringend Klaenge in meinen Ohr.Komm auf meinem Koerper, komm in meinem heissen Mund.Ich brauche deinen Brauch. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/227642/  I didn’t go to practicetoday.Because my coach is on trialfor his little girls,his precious little girls.He never touched me and WHY do I care? My poems arenever good enough for you, whogot good grades in high school andwent to community collegebut they aren&rsq.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freading/223207/