207 5 3
|
Unbind the memory’s
Filthy rags
So she is free to wear
Lipstick, fishnets, and fuck me shoes.
|
130955
|
pens loaded with ink/exceeding or equal to/my volume of blood.
|
103456
|
|
150951
|
When Bill was in the hospital, one month bleeding into the next, his mother visited exactly twice, both times complaining of the things she needed or couldn’t get rid of: mop heads, bleach, dustpans, detergents, grease, turgid water in the basement. And
|
101452
|
What don't they all do for us?They absorb, eliminate negative feelings and make you smile. To just name a few ... They make you sane, how insane it may seem from a certain point of view.But let me tell you this: I'm 1300 kms away from my family. I don't care much about…
|
101952
|
If I was a bum
I’d risk everything
For a drink or a smoke.
I would beg and curse and steal
If I was a bum.
If I was a bum
I would cuss out the Pope.
I would not vote for anyone
Because I would know truly
They’d be telling gross lies.
|
114953
|
|
139653
|
Although still uncertain of whether she was a she fish or a he fish (she definitely hated being an it fish), the fish liked what she saw of Nags Head. Finally, a world that gave her a choice. And felt no need to verify whether she was a real she fish, or just a he fish…
|
117054
|
—You know, Angelique, said Elaine Aster, dabbing her lips with a napkin, I’ve opened a new gallery in Paris.
|
140752
|
Bitch My brother is the only person who dared to slaughter a bitch and its five puppies. It is sickening to write this story. Sickening to read it. This happened on Sunday night when the muezzin called for the prayer. The puppies were…
|
117853
|
In Aisle 3 would you brighthearted find Count the Chocula.
|
118654
|
She is alone in the ocean
|
56655
|
It was just her way. Slightly down and off to the left. Mom never looked anyone in the eye.
|
77354
|
|
189952
|
In Honduras they say a prayer that sounds like screaming at the top of your lungs...
|
128853
|
Either it was rescue--if the customer was alive to be found--or recovery, the term for bringing out the dead.
|
99351
|
If someone told me like people do / that I am a good person / I will never believe them / mostly because I own a mirror / but also because I have lived with myself / for the rest of my life
|
111954
|
Writing opens doors to perception. For example, the glockenspiel smells of gardenias, but the catwalk is opening a can of Franklin stove. It emits fumes of fairyland and olive. And in the green and pleasant country of Scotland and England, vintage trains go…
|
114954
|
Published writers will tell you that the most important thing you can do as a beginning writer is to know your markets! So this month, we'll talk about two of the markets open to you and your riveting but as yet unpublished prose -- Fling Magazine and Clubhouse…
|
117054
|
Christmas night was closing in at the Cantrips alehouse in Aberdeen, a firm favourite for riggers and other men and women who lived life close to the horizon. Sometimes, on a Saturday night, things might get a bit rowdy but Mother O'Grady would stand firm and bring out…
|
137652
|
I got a chance to study story structure, character development, and writing of dialogue in an intense boot camp laced with orange jello and intravenous drugs.
|
143752
|
|
122250
|
"And then I, and I believe,
I alone, saw
this small child
run..."
|
141854
|
He said he'd meet me at the Lyric before curtains. For drinks. Only he didn't. Which was OK. The seat was softer, roomier without him. Buzzer rang, doors closed. His loss. Rusalka was clearer. More resonant. Vibrant. Better. …
|
135453
|
“I take him to see all those sexy movies,” she said, “because it puts the passion back in him. I love what he does to me when we get back home after those movies.”
|
102154
|
I loved her when she first came calling in the sodden dawn of spring. She was a strange and dangerous flower. Together we drank up all the money. The days staggered away like drunks lurching down a flophouse hall.
|
115754
|
. . . how a body calls
in the dark. . .
|
89651
|
I remember Freddie K bringing these fat Thai joints back with him from Viet Nam, and just one of those things would get us all so stoned at parties in Jolene’s upstairs apartment that we felt as if we could float down the long flight of stairs like we w
|
67350
|
My relationship to poetry resembles that of Patty Hearst, the newspaper heiress, to her abductors.
|
138353
|
"Bortne! Bortne! Shushort!" she exclaims, shooting her hands over her wobbly head in pleasure, causing it to again pop off. This time, it's a three story drop from a balcony.
Terrified, he yells "Sneeeeew nuuuu! Oh nee padoooo!"
|
