Winter 1999 • Vol. XXI No. 1 Poetry |

Shedding the Vestments

I was inside her for the first time when her parents pulled up the driveway. Her father's brain was the size of a small stone dug up by an idiot pig. He greeted me warmly. For those brief seconds, I felt the warmth I would lie and betray and nod and wink and shuffle and grin and make cheat sheets for, juggle chainsaws on my unicycle for. Some of us have a talent for being naked. Others have a talent for imagining nakedness. There was nothing gentle about what we did, frantic explosions under the flashlights of policemen. Didn't they have something better to do? When would there ever be anything better to do? I had a talent for getting lost and making jokesalong the way. Anyone who's going to hell, follow me, I used to say. The teachers ripped my test papers from my hands. I never had enough time. After that, her mother wouldn't let me in the house. I stood on the curbtalking to her while her father cut the grass as short as his hair. We never got that close again. A stupid boy got h

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Night Light

By Jim Daniels

I was inside her for the first time when her parents pulled up the driveway. Her father's brain was the size of a small stone dug up by an idiot […]

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