Two months in, we began to confide our secrets to each other. Her early brush with benzos. My peer-pressure-prone passivity.
I pledged to him two things: one, that I would hex the ones that hurt him, and two, that I would write him poetry.
i felt you were floating now with them, in a bubble in space, the bubble has a name, ecstasy, keta, speed, coke, that’s the name of the bubble.
Autumn was the season of fire. Boys and houses burned pure white holes into the night, and I self-immolated in every room but the little one I shared with you.
Know that on my Tinder profile, my pictures are all either full-body yoga pictures or heavily airbrushed selfies.
Almost every day, the sitcom actor goes on Instagram to tell his five million followers what he knows about race, class, and - more often than not, women.
Charming shyness paired with a love of dancing the Charleston in heels in the street past midnight. I kissed her bloodied knees.
2 is the grade I was in when I thought I loved Lucy. 2 is the number of times Lucy was arrested for meth in a single day. 2 is the number of Xanies she must have taken the night she showed up to my welcome home party, because she was fucking sloppy.
Jay arrived once a week, every week, for sex. He was a dental student, worked Wednesdays at a clinic near my house so it was easy for him to call to see if I was free. I made sure that I was. He
Jordan lit a post-coital cigarette and contemplatively stared at the ceiling.
“My ex was a Nazi,” he said.
“What?”
You know what’s sad? When no one releases your sex tape.
So I wanted to bang this exvangelical guy and it's about to get worse:
We beat Brock Shamos every day. We beat him with jump ropes we stole from Mr. Randall’s P.E. class
After that, I attended his streams 24/7.
It’s August in Manhattan when we both decide to leave. You accept a job in LA and my boyfriend packs my life in a U-Haul and drives it to our new apartment together in Pittsburgh.
When I toss
Our hypothetical date tomorrow is at a show for the band Tennis. I have never heard of them, but I trust him. I say I will work my magic to get us in.
The Barrington, CT Boston Market offers the creamy richness of all Boston Market feeding centers.
Like Richie’s “Hello,” Adele’s “Hello” is also an ode to longing.
Still though, that’s fucked up.
I agree, I say. It is fucked up.
On our third date, we went shopping for funeral outfits.
I don’t write “I have the libido of a sloth” in my online dating profile. I don’t use my real surname now either.
The only reason I’ve seen Space Jam: A New Legacy so much recently is because I wanted to avoid talking to my wife.
“And then after I came out to my wife, she stumbled across People Can Change,” said the man from Fresno.
Marriage is often thought of as having little to do with eroticism.1
I met my husband while bartending in Oakland. He applied to be the new chef. Tattooed knuckles. Chubby cheeks. Full beard.
"I loved reading Exit, Carefully. It’s unusual, and in my opinion exciting, to publish a play without previously receiving a major production."
-Walker Caplan, Lithub
“Lutz’s work is a marvel of the possibilities of language. Each of her sentences is an intricately crafted thing, deeply complex yet crystalline in its clarity . . . her command of each and every word remains supreme.”
--Mira Braneck, The Paris Review Daily
Garielle Lutz is the author of The Complete Gary Lutz, among other books.
"[Her Lesser Work] is a collection of mordant and formally inventive stories circling themes of, let’s say, desire and escape within repressive structures."
-Walker Caplan, Literary Hub
"Her Lesser Work is full of power and it takes risks and it's alive and real and it fixes a very sharp eye on the shit humans do to each other and themselves."
-Lindsay Lerman, LitReactor
