Lit Kid Clippings

As a child I had so much energy I'd lie awake and feel my organs smolder.

I imagine us talking somewhere safe, like the afterlife.

the imaginary is what tends to become real, and when it does there is no paint black enough to cover it up.

Two bullets: one in front, one in back quickly speak. They tell the heart, No more beats.

local high school boys made bold by youth and cruelty.

Skin is soft; it takes what you do to it.

On Wednesday night, there had been the sound of a typewriter, the rattle of a mind in motion.

praise the man who had the good sense to build a front seat like a bed, who knew you'd never buy a car that big if you only meant to drive it.

Come down to the water. Bring your snare drum, your hubcaps, the trash can lid. Bring every joyful noise you've held at bay so long.

They saw a boy who held himself as the song played and have you ever thought you would give anything to get out of the four walls of your life?

Who are you to ask for succor in the face of so much beauty. Who are you to ask this world to remember.

All the windows of her mind blown out and the light pouring in so you can't tell the fire from the moon.

That's what faith was, something I couldn't see but felt all over.

Dance until your bones clatter. What a prize you are. What a lucky sack of stars.

Have you ever gotten hit or thrown against a wall? There's a sweetness to it, that moment when your God would forgive you anything.

Although stunned and hungry, many sang, because it would have been pointless to aggravate misfortune by complaining.

. . . an austere dinner based on brown rice, which had been considered elegant ever since the macrobioticians and vegetarians had instilled fear and trembling in humankind with their dietary theories.