I’m not good at math, but I’ll be damned if I leave a math problem unsolved. I don’t seek any problem out, but when I come upon a math problem in my journey through days, I pause until I whisper the answer like a secret learned. For a long time, I paused just hours at a time. I would come
Carma
My lock clicked open like the unclasping of a bra or the zipper of a skirt tapping the ground. He couldn’t resist. Minutes later, he laid me on my side in his van and sped off with me. This agitated the man’s partner, sitting in the passenger seat with his fat nose and thumbs. And as the stop signs frayed
Crossing the Line
“If you take my hand, I can show you how to get across,” she said. She wasn’t a pretty girl, so I suspected this was a ploy to put a hand like mine in hers. If she were pretty and if I knew the way, I would have carried her across. That’s the kind of man I am.
This Man
This Man’s name now adds three pounds of weight but no substance to every newspaper printed every day. The names of other world leaders unroll into native sounds, a sparkling combination of lower and uppercases, commanding from kerning through the ads on the next four pages. But the five letters comprising This Man’s last name are little more than an
Fast & Furious
We pulled up next to the “Don’t Even Think of Parking Here” sign on West 37th Street. The plan was to sink our teeth into our chicken wings just before someone tapped on our window and told us to move. We’d been dying to try out E(at)=MC(hicken)2 for months, but the line has been 2 or 3 hours long every