1354 7 6
|
I feel a hand on my leg, and look down to see the little girl touching the horse on my ankle.
|
154876
|
"It was John-Darren who once told me that he felt sorry for women."
|
173471
|
They were pressing her about the money, it was always about the money.
|
222077
|
Thank you for submitting your epic poem I, I, I for consideration. While we are encouraged that you have relented from the ruthless self-endictment you affected so unconvincingly in your previous entry, Why Am I...
|
162074
|
I don’t know what to do with all this money flowing from my books.
It’s burning a hole in my literary pocket.
|
125376
|
Barbarians and savages wore feathers/
or frightful face paint or skin tones//
one could recognize and aim for/
with weapons one could feel
|
151877
|
I could put on some music, but it just pushes me further away from you, so it seems. It takes me out far beyond the safety breakers and then reintroduces me to my own splashing two-fisted fear of swimming. You can swim through …
|
167777
|
Content may contain ordinary, everyday, and all around average happenings.
|
371578
|
My other brother, Mike, has been camping out with the Carter boys down the street. For breakfast, he had beans, straight out of a can, and they were the best thing he ever ate.
“These are the best,” he told them.
“The best beans?” Joe, t
|
182171
|
She doesn’t answer. Ten minutes slide by unmolested in the anesthesia of cheap wine and resignation, the bouncers blurring and unblurring, the room dimming, quieting, the kaleidoscope of sundown giving way to the gentle sadness of candlelight.
|
182774
|
A cow wanders onto a roof and falls through the skylight. It's a calamity, but such an innocent mistake. Mightn't you amble onto a rooftop once upon a full winter snow in Vermont?Another cow climbs a gravel mound in…
|
168976
|
you might as well be blind
|
168477
|
We are/no more than heartbeats on repeat.
|
116275
|
There could be a Reagan circle/
with a Maggie Thatcher suite.
|
161376
|
Marie was on the roof. The deck, with its cool concrete pavers and faded cedar Adirondack chairs, was one of the reasons she and Harold had bought their condo in this building. The only ugly part of the roof was the chain-link fence along its edge; soon after they moved…
|
158276
|
"I tell you about ten other men
who want to love me and two I could kiss
in the smoking room of a jazz club,
you wonder if I’d love anyone."
|
190077
|
But on arrival Darlene was in no prompt mood to undress.
"There's some ugly sumpthin' out there along the fence, looks like it's gnawin' on sumpthin' dead."
|
133675
|
Just a lot of honking and hissing.
|
178374
|
|
262374
|
For here in the vortex are no other laws, Than separate towards you I and skirting stone- To wards where wavelets purr against their pause A moment more, to yawn to omicron… Inside the seashell orchard's whirl-quick floor- Come all at once to me or…
|
169276
|
Where horses once were tethered grows their grass . . .
|
443279
|
Mother still calls pomegranates “Chinese apples,” much to my embarrassment.
|
158074
|
An old man in overalls with rags on his head known locally as Bo Peep made his way up from the black side of town to the white. After listening for a few moments, he shook his head in disgust. “Boy, you can’t play them blues.”
|
162374
|
Not all ideas are bad, just mine.
|
162877
|
To tell the truth, I can’t complain. Look, lots of people have it tough. I don’t have it tough...
|
194176
|
in her silk sleeves is silence sheathed.
|
182173
|
The one thing my father told me that I want to believe is true . . .
|
133574
|
All this broken glass in the road
Tells the longest story l have ever told
Of how you lost your life and I my love
And how you still go wandering above
I don't know how I can return
To the planet where we used to thrive
Along this broken
|
119176
|
Turningturning the pale grey spot.She sits in her carin the parking lotwith the radio onleaning back picking a thin piece of skin from her finger.Turningturningthe seagulls move aroundand aroundabove the asphaltas though it was the wave,with…
|
258072
|
Once upon a time, a young writer decided to leave his home in Iowa City, and seek wisdom in the East.
|
