Nov 082005
 

My daughter was a stay-awake baby. Sometimes, to shorten the process, we would load her in the car and drive out into the lyrical Pennsylvania countryside, watching the colors of night gather in the sky, the green trees enrich their hues as night fell. One night, my stepdaughter was visiting. Jessica was a sarcastic, defensive,

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 Posted November 8, 2005  Tagged with: , ,
Feb 062007
 

I geuss I just don’t do soft-focus-window-curtains-blowing women making love. That’s all the warning I’m offering; you already know where this is going, right? Smut the first; 100 words. (Inspired by my character sketch for Charlie Dixon) prompt “Liquid”; Language There were words she wouldn’t say in English; fuck, cunt, cock. This woman, who would

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 Posted February 6, 2007  Tagged with: , ,
Jul 242012
 

The lathe stands before you solid, restless, Holding half the power of a plow-horse The log offers itself to you, accepts the bite Of the honed steel  in your hand, held steady Against the rest. You bend towards your goal. Turning wood is craft, you’ll find— not art; (although You’ll feel the spinning wood pull

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 Posted July 24, 2012  Tagged with: , ,
Apr 202009
 

from a challenge on my home forum; Write limericks based on literature, and thus; A.A. Milne; When Winnie The Pooh wanted hunny His antics were sweet, and so funny Any child could find the hundred-acre-wood But Disney’s reaping the munny. Coleridge; There were nymphs that called Xanadu home There was booze and good eats in

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 Posted April 20, 2009
May 272008
 

Smut the first; 100 words. (Inspired by my character sketch for Charlie Dixon) prompt “Liquid”; Language There were words she wouldn’t say in English; fuck, cunt, cock. This woman, who would scream and scratch in orgasm, who drew blood with her kisses, who at kicked my buttocks as if she were spurring a horse, would

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 Posted May 27, 2008  Tagged with: , , ,
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