1273 11 6
|
Died is forever. Passed away/
Is ambiguous. Dead isn’t/
polite.
|
3779 11 8
|
Lisa Duncan's mom was puffy, and you could always see part of her breasts.
|
1898 11 7
|
He was her summer fling, the first cock to crow when the sun rose over her tequila smile.
|
1565 11 10
|
It was just lying there by the side of the road next to a mailbox, pockets turned out, weeds kinda rolled flat around it. I counted three nickels, a dime, and a cigar butt too. I could sure use the change for gum, but I didn't want to get near it. It looked dead,…
|
1422 11 3
|
Ego bereft of consistency Betrays a heart hungering to toll. Unable to trust its will Or harbor imaginary gods, It gains a hold melding into a role whose proven viability Can give convincing cover To buy time to fabricate An identity that feels unique, Yet…
|
1834 11 11
|
It’s like faith. My battle buddy is out there, I know it, but I can’t see him, nor can I hear him. I just know he’s there, trusting he’ll do what he’s supposed to do, and he’s trusting in me.
|
1368 11 8
|
There are stories I will not tell, stories I shudder / to remember. You'll forgive me for withholding them from you. / You may, of course, not tell me everything about yourself either
|
2111 11 4
|
My name is Wanda McClure and I lived in the foothills of Eastern Kentucky. A small town miles off the interchange, and mostly in the middle of nowhere. I lived in a trailer. I was 52 years old.
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223 11 9
|
|
1392 11 6
|
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1343 11 6
|
Everything is bound to change like / a damsel to the tracks.
|
1524 11 8
|
Me and Dale chuck rocks at it.
|
1610 11 10
|
Some of them are notorious tweakers. Nobody epitomizes the cowboy-outlaw biker more than the ironworkers, who are wired on Black Beauties they sell on breaks.
|
1340 11 6
|
I suppose it was inevitable, This crashing of souls, This recognition of possibility to create. If we were younger, We would make a baby, The ultimate act of faith. Now it has to be something else, Nothing to force a track with night feedings, …
|
1069 11 9
|
I kept my seat. Passengers packed in the aisle weren't moving and until they were, neither was I.
|
1578 11 3
|
He had a country house, she said, but it was near the city. She said the house was about as old as he was and she loved it— from the wood-framed windows to the heavy wood doors... to the garden on the side of the house
|
1723 11 9
|
The taste of / what is denied us is always sweet
|
1485 11 6
|
The days cut off by damp chill with every thought a different variety of protection.
|
1688 11 9
|
We'll Thelma-and-Louise it, I urged, Bonnie-and-Clyde it, she bettered, Sundance-and-Butch it, I proffered but she was already leaning in for a kiss.
|
1171 11 7
|
--small chin, timid mouth, frail nose, weak narrow-set eyes--
|
1712 11 8
|
The wind has no voice
and yet we listen,
perhaps imagining the ramblings
of a mad man
|
1337 11 9
|
When Chuck dies, I’ll throw/
a party and dance, a little drunk,/
across what I’ll pretend/
is the old shit’s grave.
|
1822 11 5
|
After court, the three of us skipped third period, walked down to the river and huddled under the 6th Street Bridge.
|
1347 11 9
|
A cheap pocket knife was the only sharp I carried in my backpack and they allowed me that. The man with the pot tattoo on his neck said, “All of us here needs some type of knife. You gotta cut up your food. We don't…
|
2060 11 7
|
It had been Tom at the wharf who strode over to greet me, his friend Tom with the small spectacles standing at the bar. “Write it when you get home,” Bella said. I was wearing the same beads.
|
2202 11 4
|
1987. Recently, I told a teenager who was smoking a cigarette in an elevator that he should put it out. “You a cop?” he asked.
|
1508 11 5
|
“I’m tired, Art” The Virgin said. She was already curled up beside their dog,
Lance.
|
1891 11 7
|
I've been avoidingyour beautiful fact for years in just the past few hours it seemslike it was the scariest plague on earth. Andit worries me becauseit's something so new that Idon't know what to dowith myself.Yes I wouldn't knowwhat to…
|
3163 11 12
|
I combed the ocean for my minnows while Hattie's giraffes multiplied like spider plants, all yellow and brown on the dry yellow savanna, propelled by their gauche necks, awkward in their bodies, bodies rooted to the feet of the humming planet.
|
1477 11 8
|
He liked to take pictures of her, and she liked to pose. It made her horny, she said.
|