Gerard DiLeo

Joined July 2021

866 stories

Bio

Retired, not tired. Hippocampus, behave!

Make me rich! https://www.amazon.com/Gerard-DiLeo/e/B00JE6LL2W/

My substrack at https://substack.com/@drdileo

[email protected]

Achievements (13)

Stories (866)

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Data
THE INCOME Data comes in From vibrations abroad Are filtered from the din Of the builders of fraud I Wafts of biochemistry and alchemy inhaled
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Poets
Beware the Tides of March
My almanac says high tide will be on March 15. The ground is already oversaturated by the unprecedented February rains, so the water table has very little give left in it to resist unusual tides.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
74 To Kill a Killer
If I could get away with it, I would kill a killer and do everyone a big favor. Of course, it'd be even sweeter if I did this before he were to actually kill someone. (I say "he" because murder, rape, pedophilia, and even whole wars are all about testosterone, right?)
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Mr. Wedding Cake
Very first job At the age of fourteen Postpubescent dreams Of what twelve dollars a week can buy From under the table To the cash in my pocket
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Poets
Fools Like Me
I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree... Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. — Joyce Kilmer, 1915
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
F.U.J.I.M.O.
I get it. I used your '57 Chevy without permission. But permission is for suckers! Truth be told, I like to think of my balls of steel as rolling thunder--ball-lightning thrown down the alley to the 7-10 split--on that bat out of Hell that is my pteropine stallion. 666 is the speed I drive.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
That's How the Toilet Flushes
There was an Australian who came to apologize To America, after screwing his partner in enterprise He knew what he was doing
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Poets
72 Limited Inventory
This is awkward. You entered my space, aiming your face into that quasi-zone where a kiss should result from the natural flow of things.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Urning a Living
He had a treasure box where he kept everything he'd lost. He resisted reappraising them because it was the past. Rummaging through it would be like trying to translate Homer into Tarot, neither medium in his wheelhouse. How could things from his past be translated with the language of things to come? Things in his past were written in a dead language; things in his future still hid in probability clouds, awaiting sublimation.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Daylight Saving
Tonight I'll be an hour older — on paper. Isn't this an ominous, capricious erasure of universal space-time? An hour skipped by making it non-existent? A true vacuum which, as we know, is impossible.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Pain-God
After my appendectomy, I asked the anesthetist about how my depth of anesthesia was monitored. "We monitor processed EEG waves, frontal lobe activity that quasi-linearizes balances between GABA and an index value that documents your sedation. Above a certain number, it assures deep-enough sedation."
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
UNDER'touchable
I've had it. So I sit at my ol' UNDERWOOD, rapping my fingers: QWERTYUIOP. This salutation to the keyboard begins our correspondence. The [SHIFT] key is a heavy hoist, so I leave the caps on.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction