Alphabetical stories

Language

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this reaching, this striving to love like it's there becoming something we need.

Language Lesson

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I smoked my cigarro under his watchful eye. We were never able to make too much conversation even when I was teaching him at Educenter. Now that David had opened his own school, Evert had come to learn with him because it was much more affordable, but he

Lanyards

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theme songs for concentration camps!?

Lapidary

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You burnish what is left until it shines and call it your own.

Lapses

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The body does what a body must

Larger Than Life

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She told me one way to deal with it would be to put everything in a box and burn it.

Larry Swain's Universe

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By fiddling with the time space continuum and mixing in liberal quantities of quarks from his "Li'l Bang Dimensional Digester", Larry created an entirely new universe in his garage. This was a flagrant violation of Cosmic Law. It could not be ignored, nor

Larry's "Gonna Die" Parrtayye

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When we started plans for the party, none of us wanted Larry to die, most of all Larry himself. Actually, when we first started plans for the party, Larry wasn’t dying.

Lasagna

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My wife went vegan.

Lassitude

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It's morning, and the cold black hull of branches sets my resting pier, Amid this drizzle, underneath the poignant pain of birches, wrecked By floods of midyear grieving; wraithlike, Dawn's been becked To paint in shafts of faded rose that shades the fen…

last attempt at innocence

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When we were leaving to go to the ice rink, Lynda surprised all of us by saying she wanted to come along. She slid all the way over in the front seat to be next to me, while one of my buddies, Miller, who had his eye on her himself, slid into the passen

Last Bell

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Coward, cuckold, she taunts: So be it. He's not a young man anymore, nor as clever as he once was, or thought.

Last Call

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It’s last call for the Class of 2001, their five-year reunion drawing to a close, and Brenner, in his standard t-shirt and holey jeans, has just arrived.

LAST CALL: A Memoir

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We see o­nly the results which a man's choices make out of his raw material . . . when his body dies all that will fall off him, and the real central man, the thing that chose, that made the best or the worst out of this material, will stand naked. All sorts of things…

last light

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whisper to me

Last Minute Changes

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“This is what we'll do. We'll bury him so his body will never be found. How? That's the question.” Bob made another short, narrow lap around the trailer's living room slash kitchenette while unwrapping his sixth stick of Big Red gum and jamming it into his mouth…

Last Night

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If they are all speaking medicine & I / start speaking French - how / rude am I? Would they understand then / what it is to be entirely left out / of the conversation, unseen?

Last Night I Dated The Universe

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Last night I dated the universe. What a hottie! I arrived on time and was feeling a bit spacey. Look at me, I said. I'm on time. Yeah, well, I invented time. I made sure you'd be here on time. Cool. Where do you want to go? Doesn't matter. Wherever we go I'm already…

Last Night On Oil Street

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Tomorrow the authority smashes. Tonight we march, splash, carve letters in wet paint from room to room until steel blades bend. The letters will tilt in shadows gliding over the walls to mask our tales born of fractured wrists and the ghosts, our keepers.

Last Night, I Had a Beer with God

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"So" he started, which troubled me enough to turn back around and make such focused eye contact that I did not even notice his glass was again full, "you wanted to talk?"

Last Poem

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or the voice that wants/ to be inscribed/ forgets the sounds

Last Stop

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So we stayed on the train admiring the time.

Last Stop To Dream

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This time is different. The dream doesn’t continue with endless walking.

Last Token of the New York Doll

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I took four of them, and put on “Heroin” by the Velvet Underground, and sat in the bathtub, filling it with warm water. Submerging myself, I watched the water level dance in front of me, listening to Lou Reed wail, dragging him under the water level.

Last Visit to Mauritius Island

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So I threw away all my stuff, because I was tired of it, and because I decided I wanted to revive the Oral Tradition. I figured if it was good enough for our ancestors, it couldn't be all that bad, not that I’m really into history or cultural stagnancy o

Last Visit to the Toy Store

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The two walked around, taking in all the classics: the imported Russian matryoshka dolls of varying styles and bright colors; spinning tops, red Radio Flyer wagons, kaleidoscopes, and wooden yo-yo's invoked memories of Christmases past. The hand-stitched

Last Words

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I met Barry Hannah once in my life. I’d come to Oxford, MS, to meet an entirely different writer whom I thought then and think now very highly of. I’d also come to escape from another slew of regrets. Oxford is a great city to run away to.

Lastborn

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Being the baby in a family forces a focused outlook on life. Not necessarily profound, not even wry, but a perspective that pushes for two things - recognition, and to be in on whatever is going on.

LATE NIGHT WITH MANDELBROT

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On Soapography, two actresses are discussing everyone’s personal heaven, and in another room you can hear a woman who is your dead mother combing her hair in a doctor’s smock in a dream,

Late Afternoon in the Universe

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In the evening when the sun sinks low and the baths gets drawna tall glass of milk sits slowly spoiling and sweating on the cracked white window sill. And the kids walk across the grass.The birds send out their last farewell notes They sail on the infinite breath of…