Advertisement

Hot Tin Roof: Before Planting

Hot Tin Roof

Leave the screams, the unspoken fights — / “I can’t take it all, I ain’t gonna take it all, I don’t want none of it, I just want” — / to roll naked across a gravel road while the dust kicks up and the blood is drawn / like a goddamned roadmap across ass and knees and chest. […]

Read More…

Hot Tin Roof: Wedding in Galena

Hot Tin Roof

We drive down blackjack road, thin and winding, hemmed by the woven trunks of trees and a sheer drop.
“It’s a beautiful town,” he says. “All these trees. The hills. The view.”
“I wonder if that’s why Nate and Matt picked it.”
No house lights. No streetlights. Only one working headlight on Fat Van.
(And it’s quiet. When was the last time we were anywhere quiet?) […]

Read More…

Hot Tin Roof: Public Service Announcement

Hot Tin Roof

Underwires: you’re
wearing them wrong!
You’re wearing the wrong
size the wrong way. For starters,
the band, not the straps, provides
primary support. For second, as any
mammographer knows, your breast tissue
extends halfway under your armpit, and as
the nice lady at La Petite Coquette in Union
Square will tell you, all that should be in your bra.
Grab the underwire under your arm with your near-
est hand while, with the other inside the cup (“May
I?”), pull your breast forward (NOT up!) and then (la
coup de grâce) tug gently on the outer cup edge to
situate. “And you’re in,” she affirms. “Your tits
should salute.” Well, hello there. A swell of
cleavage where never there was. I’m harn-
essed and ready to battle the city streets.
(If you’re now spilling out, go up a
cup size.) But rather than flaunt
my rank among the select few
with salutatory boobs, I here-
by bequeath this sacred
knowledge to you. And for
the record, underwires do
not cause breast cancer. […]

Read More…

Hot Tin Roof: Gratitude

Hot Tin Roof

So I’m like eight, and my hair is slicked with Vitalis, and I’m riding in the back seat of our old Ford station wagon, surrounded by my brothers and my sister, my parents up front, my old man smoking Tareytons. He’s rolled the windows up tight to seal in the goodness like Tupperware, and we’re rolling down the Mass Pike to GG’s funeral. […]

Read More…