1281 5 3
|
I've lost the remote control to my brain
|
130356
|
In my day, you could buy a polythene bag of cigarette butts for 5p. And everyone had a proper haircut.In my day, plumbers gave free vasectomies whilst reciting patriotic poems. And all the buses were red.In my day, there was always more than enough sex to go round, with…
|
133451
|
“There are so few uses for Crisco, that to keep it in the house seems an unnecessary temptation,” said my health teacher.
|
122055
|
They’re young and haughty.
27’s still a long ways off.
They read about the famous,
not the dead.
Dusty dragonflies will not
land upon them,
and they are really only in love
with the dishwasher.
Now there’s a problem.
Poetry is dead,
|
123653
|
He slathered the glue on my scalp and talked non-stop about Harlem. Electrodes or nodes, I never asked which, would measure something inside my head. I doubt they actually did though, measure anything. I've had the pleasure of having wires glued to my skull before and have…
|
147351
|
Because he tells her to, she puts on a vintage Easter dress one size too small and sprawls in a circle of light on the dusty floor...
|
126152
|
He remembers, he touches,
he lifts and kisses the mouth.
|
176456
|
She told me one way to deal with it would be to put everything in a box and burn it.
|
100952
|
I’m not in the habit of just hanging out on the corner handing out “free stuff,” you know. I figured it was going to cost you. But I was wrong. It cost me instead.
You can only float near the ceiling when you’ve become an emptied vessel. No hope or
|
156755
|
He ran for home, screaming for help in the silent ravine.
|
144254
|
I was always bi-polar. I didn’t realize it was a mental illness until my divorce lawyer had the court order a psychiatric analysis.
|
162455
|
How would you like to leave the land of your ancestors, the place of your birth, the home of your identity?
|
114351
|
He also looked at the tv with a detachment he sensed was dangerous and the sensation scared him so he ran into the kitchen and felt ashamed alone in the hot room and trembled.
|
310055
|
The blue bird tapped at my window and pecked my crumbs. I talked to him as to a small person about the things of life, of flowers, of trees and the sky. Even at times pretending he was erudite, I questioned him about evolution and extinction. He looked at me as if he…
|
99651
|
I awoke sweating like a Mormon at an anti-bigamy conference.
|
106053
|
He knew it was messed up and wrong, but sometimes she was the last thing he’d see before the dam burst. It made him feel both the best and the worst.
|
116955
|
We jam into the green tent as it begins to rain. His casket is covered with flowers and there is the picture you took of him, the day you climbed the fire tower from where you could see forever, past his smiling face the bars and a million changing leaves.His pregnant girl…
|
128454
|
I wrapped my arms around each of them
ran my hands over their face, and kissed
their lips. "Why are they dreaming?" I asked.
|
88255
|
|
178350
|
“No, dad, I've never seen urine colored pearls.”
|
132854
|
I would advise the younger you to change your underpants, and not to let those boys do the talking for you.
|
127253
|
She is a manifold of temporal flows.
|
158452
|
The past operates with incredible gravity. Powerful, efficient, deceptive. Thin, sleek cords sent out by it attach themselves to your back, your legs, your buttocks, the back of your head. Resist. Walk. One leg after another. Easy does it, like a baby. Do
|
165355
|
While the other kids blew bubbles, Maddy clung to my neck. She didn't cry or scream, and she held on loosely, not with the death grip some kids have. For five Wednesday afternoons, Maddy wrapped her pudgy arms over my shoulders and rested her bottom on m
|
130652
|
My wife makes coffee naked. Didn't used to. Back then, before the accident, she hated her body. Says that's why she gave it to me. She's serious about it too. The coffee, I mean. Developed a whole ritual around buying, measuring, pouring. Every day it's the…
|
114353
|
dealing with an over-aged imaginary friend gone rogue
|
125355
|
Summer nights or frozen
winter, the crackles of his black.
|
441254
|
I'm not a librarian. I'm an Information Goddess.
|
85752
|
My trousers turn when her these eyesights earn is learned in light,Like limn of laugh or limbs hers — do I know her, no? — but gauzy Greyhair ravings greyscale havens of Old Jake whose floozy Wooed, ne'er raised the wood that, pencil-perched, arrests…
|
124355
|
The redwood trees were taller than dreams
|
