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You opened your laptop and scrolled through music, deciding what you wanted to listen to listen to while you died – something to calm your fear.
We got a sandwich at Mr. Pickle's, but they cut the sandwich in the plastic. Plastic wrap.
I would drinkgladly,graciously,but I amunfortunatelychainedto a senseof selfpreservation.
Hi de ho, and hey, hey, hey; The farmer's daughter is made of hay. I went to touch her but she blew away, And noo ma hert is nae langer gay. Hi de hoo, and how do you do? The farmer's wife has a cold up her flue, And takes me away…
What are our reigning philosophies today, what dominant schools inform and lead our intellectual efforts, inspire our blissful reveries, inflame our breathless humanity?
Life ascends gradually—just like they always said. I stop counting on immediate transformations—the overnight best-seller, instant enlightenment—and instead focus on what I can do: Writing a little each day and making it to Mass on the weekend. I even giv
One fine afternoon a few months after her husband's death, Susan awoke in the porcelain tub of her gigantic, empty house with: two champagne bottles, one only half-empty; a Xanax bottle, completely empty; and a loaded gun, which was most startling
he thought of her / longingly
Unapproachable... for all that.
That’s a long time/
to live with the certainty/
of your death
Some life in Rosco's walls. He listened with his dead wife Sonya's stethoscope: rustles and scratching, a collective heartbeat.“Vermin”, said Vlad, Rosco's neighbor. “Will take over if no kill.” He smiled with one tooth, urped some vodka. “I…
I was talking to this famous female artist
at the reception, (as if I knew anything,)
“If you want to be taken as a serious artist now,
you have to have one long serious eyebrow.”
There was no reaction. So, I said:
“Also, you should kn