the first time Fulton fucked me, somewhere near Des Moines, we made half a grand. It would have been twice that, but I'd been afraid to lose my virginity to someone I didn't know, someone who was willing to pay five hundred to watch, one thousand to be the star. The couch had smelled like sweat and beer farts, smothering me with unfamiliarity when Fulton climbed on top of me from behind and pushed my face into the cushions. He didn't want me to see their faces when he tugged down my pants and pushed into me, didn't want them to hear me scream. It was brutal even though he was gentle, the fingers he put in my mouth a small comfort when my heart and my asshole were bleeding. Everything was rough and raw and red, no sounds except for the panting and the fap fap fap of our patron beating his meat three feet away. In those moments, when he was breathing apologies into my ear while wrecking me from behind, I hated Fulton. I hated the thrusting and the pain and, when it was over, I hated the warm memories of it that were running down my thighs. But most of all, I hated that he had taken by force what I would have gladly given him for free.

FROM "MEET ME IN MONTANA"

kevin thought romantic meant hot dogs and a fire outside of his RV. I'd wanted a restaurant so I could see his face and he could see how charming I was in social situations, but I was settling for squinting at him and wondering how he'd look if everything wasn't orange. There was nothing charming about the way I slapped at mosquitoes, though his laugh lit the darkness when I admitted that I was worried about West Nile. He told me he had to piss, and because I thought he'd go inside, it was surprising to see him stand, turn, and only walk a few feet away. The firelight danced on the curving stream of his urine, and I knew that if I craned my neck slightly, I'd be able to see his penis.

FROM "UNTITLED"

you expel the sickness. You feel it leave your body, and then you're looking at its physical remains on the ground, so benign, unassuming. Where in that brown pile is the creature that had been ripping you apart? In those moments, feeling empty is feeling clean.

FROM "TRIGGER AN EXPLOSION: A MEMOIR"

it was a crime scene turned to cider on the floor.

FROM "JOHAN AND THE APPLES"

the best way to quit smoking, a coworker had told him as they watched the volcano burst of bubbles in the water cooler, is to imagine that every cigarette you light will start a forest fire. Kevin concentrated on the stream of smoke issuing from the end of his Marlboro, the way it caught on the invisible zephyr of his breath and curved into an external portrait of his lungs and mouth. It was like looking into a mirror that offered only a fleeting glimpse of the truth before the reflection billowed out into a caricature of the face looking into it, clowns where men had been, a chain smoker where Kevin had once been able to see his crooked nose and wonder how much it would cost to make it straight. Ash fell from his fingers, the crumbling remains of a branch from the forest he'd destroyed, black broken fingers in place of trees, everything burned matchsticks and soot and dirty human interference, green smudged out into grey, birdies and squirrels and baby deer crying dark tears that left dark trails into rivers choked with ashes. Because he'd chosen to smoke, everything else had to as well, their lungs filling with the heavy black clouds rolling from the smoldering remains of nature.

FROM "UNTITLED"

i knew Shane would want to do this naked because I had always done it naked. I knew he would feel vulnerable and exposed, judged. I knew he would tremble at the first contact of my nose on the bare skin of his stomach, his eyes fluttering closed, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. I knew it because he was me, because this was the way it had been. He would hesitate before touching me, and when he did, it would feel like the first time. I would be wild and dangerous and real and fascinating and he would always remember me as the first, the best. I would haunt his dreams and nullify the waking world, stirring up in him an appetite that would never be sated, because nothing would ever be as good as this time, the first time.

FROM "DEATH AMONGST HORSES"