Greg is in the middle of stepping out the door when he finds his foot hovering over a small bundle wrapped in a worn, hand-knitted blanket.

Oh no, he thinks. Not again.

oh! that i could believe in my own brain

and trust it was not turn’d upon itself

in constant allegorical refrain

entangling my thoughts within themselves.

How to Get Back Up

Step One: Get knocked down.

6 – The five-thirty news reports it.

they say

your heart

is as big as

your fist

but mine is

bigger on the inside…

She lures him with brilliant smile,

Which rots beneath the fish bones

And skulls of lovers past –

Seductress hidden in her pearly raiment.

Majestic heart and tragic past,

Eternal damnation for her work,

Enslaved by Fate, rejected by Heaven –

Doomed, chained to Neptune’s side…

An excerpt from “Masters and Masculinity: The Men of Industry in Elizabeth Gaskell’s Manchester Novels.”

“Chapter Two introduces the historical context of masculinity as it will be examined in the works. Using critical theory of Victorian masculinity, this chapter will lay out the complications of defining masculinity because of the impact of social changes in Britain during the period.”

Mr. George Knightley, the epitome of English gentlemanliness, and Frank Churchill, the dandified intruder, are positioned to do battle for Emma’s hand, and it is Austen’s treatment of Mr. Knightley’s Englishness which acts as her peacetime promotion of England over France.

He takes his seat at the head table and sips his Private Reserve Cabernet as the waiter sets down his plate. He’d requested the steak for tonight, knowing word wouldn’t get out about breaking his commitment to a vegetarian lifestyle. As the governor makes his introductory remarks, George cuts a square of meat, smudges the sauce delicately over the bite, and pops it into his mouth. It’s tender and flavorful, a meal he knows he’ll remember for some time. He cuts another square and savors this bite, too.

This evening, he thinks as he swipes the third bite through the sauce along his plate, will be one for the history books. And he will be one of the authors.

“But I’m fine,” Tomás repeats. “I’m hurt, but I’m okay.”

Olivia looks up from the four pieces — four pieces! — of this stupid Cuisinart that she can’t put back together to find Hot Teacher grinning at her. He’d taken her ticket at the door and she’d just about passed out when his blazer sleeve pulled up and she spotted the hint of a tattoo beneath it. Combined with the Billy Joel t-shirt casually tucked into his jeans, this man is really doing something for her.

The wind howls through the trees, branches creaking in the night as they tap on the windows like anxious fingers.

You lie awake on the floor, curled tight in your sleeping bag, wondering if anyone else has managed to fall asleep.

The snow has been falling fast, thick, heavy for nearly two hours when the figure bleeds into sight, a spot of ink on the empty page.

“I’m telling you,” Molly continues, “this is fate. Fate, John Baxter. Hot Paramedic has returned to the stage for another compelling performance of ‘Savior with the Dark Curls’ in the nighttime fantasies of Apartment 42.”

The last thing Kingsley was expecting on a sunny, but cool, Tuesday morning was to find himself toe to nose with a particularly silky black cat.

The moment is a painting — calm waters, fine sand and rocky outcroppings, untamed shrubs bending to the wind, and a lone boy standing at the edge of the tide.

Hector shakes his head and grasps Alex by both shoulders. “It’s not your fault, buddy. Just… we’re a Dodgers family, okay?”

The first chapter of Best Supporting Actress, a novel about fake dating, the Oscars, and figuring yourself out.

“I’m so tired,” Hades mutters, “of these Gorgons taking so long to place an order.”

lyrical found poem #3

(from the album Imploding the Mirage by The Killers)