The Court’s affirmative action decision will have an impact on the college admissions process. Colleges love taglines and the Court is facing a credibility crisis. Time to rebrand! “Rules (of law) are made to be broken” “We’re partial to partiality” “State your case…to the hand” “Now accepting Venmo” “Making shit…

Stalking the lot, Searching for the right victim, Tall, full-figured, young. There — that one. The saw’s mechanized teeth, Chew through skin, The shredded flesh, a fountain, Spraying in long arcs. The severed body, Still conscious, Dragged across gravel, Bound with rope, To the top of a car, Where it…

The parenting handbook, Two worn covers, With nothing between. The wisdom missing, The pages knifed and forked, And fed to the hungry wind, A passing parade, That tosses, A feast of crumbs, To the eager. A mistake, now hindsight, For the illiterate. Moments of pure ignorance, A business card we…

Seeks a monopoly, On the one thing, He doesn’t own. The billionaire, Builds rockets — burns, Money, the fuel, Pushing him farther, Into his own orbit, Earth already his, The billionaire, Reaches for the stars, Just so the world will look Up, At him. A twisted plant, Following the spotlight, An invasive species, Taking root in your attention. The billionaire, Thrives on your energy, Do not give him your sun,

I tell you to stop, Then dodge your response, You speak in fists, A second language, And the shape of your words. I am afraid, Of you, For you. The world is professional violence, A heavyweight, And you in kid gloves. Our sparring, Is training, For a rigged fight. You the fuse, But am I the match? My fire — Extinguished, But still smoldering. I am supposed to have the answers, To know what you need,

Here we are, In the place we were a year ago, The place we’ll be a year from now, Empty chairs, Silent silverware, Hungry plates and thirsty glasses. Thawing out the conversation, Warming to each other’s company. Salt and spice mingle, Alert the senses, Call appetites, To the long table. …

Notice the book, a James Patterson thriller. The cover cresting at the edges, a wave curling back on itself. Ripped corners. Crease marks wind like rivers across a woman dressed in red, her back arched, her eyes closed, her mouth open in anticipation. To the left of her in small, inflammable text, “Paris is burning and only Private can control the inferno.” On the back an endorsement, “No one gets this big…”

My father is a moustache, spent cigarettes, a BMX bike (or was it Huffy) and a three day father-son Disneyland trip that ended after 24 hours. Rex Sims. Male stripper from the 1970s. Stage name Jason Justin Jade. Dead now. Lung cancer. More in my life now than when he…

Brush had overtaken a section of our yard. I’d told myself many times that I’d take care of it soon, but never did. The salal went unchecked. It spread and multiplied. …