Tag Archives: Heath Corlew


When the shot left my hand, it was askew. The soggy, now empty soap box the Marriott hotel had so courteously left in the shower for my aromatic delight, ricocheted off a hand towel hanging neatly on its rack and … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Love & Unemployment

I want to be so intertwined with you that our limbs wrap about one another —and spread—defiantly, like kudzu. Consuming and smothering all those perfectly practical reasons that keep you—separate— from me. Like… the atlantic ocean, your boyfriend, my unemployment, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 3 Comments

My Rump Hurts Disorder

I knew Sarah intimately, intricately. I mean: I knew what every gesture, facial expression, vocal tone—all of it, drunk or sober, stoned or coked up, on Ecstasy, all sorts of pills, on ether and even VCR head-cleaner, psychedelics, Adderall, birth … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction | Tagged | Leave a comment