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He picked up the bottle of gin, looked at it.
"Not a lot left," he said.
"There's enough," she replied. She took the bottle and lifted it to her lips. "Are you ready?" she asked.
"For what?"
"You'll see."
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162653
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Show me where to go, he said out of defiance for the moment in which time was malleable and fat minutes were consumed by wayward, languid hours. And all I could do for the time being was sit there excruciatingly anxious for this to pass, so it…
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Left by a melting snowbank: Cup lids, pine needles, a cairn of dog shit, And the grey soggy shape Of an eyeless winter bird. His breast is an old accordion Gone to rot in an old…
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His wife leans her head against a beam with her eyes closed
while he reads out loud.
Her mouth shut tightly, almost twisted shut. She's so weary.
She raises her collar and sinks further into her neck.
When he shouts, or explodes — nothing. Not
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51755
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into another bright vat of boiling over hot lies. It's sick, man, the way you'd rather dig for a supposed (royal) buried treasure than make a new beautiful thing start to happen, breakyour back, break your spirit, over and over, until there's nothing left to…
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52655
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Mrs. Death was walking in mountains where everything around was still. Mr. Death? —in another hemisphere, wandering (last she’d heard) through a vast forest.
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98651
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Bardan O'Connor stared at himself in the mirror but didn't recognize the image before him. He was pale and looked like death. He tried to psyche himself up for the latest show with a shot of Irish whiskey. He slapped himself hard in the face. "Get it together man." The…
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118651
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you'd do him more of a favor to kill him, than place upon him the burden of such an abrupt change in travel plans.
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121255
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awoke in confusion, fear and hurt never seen before that day a year past
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It was a sunny day because everyday was a sunny day and the thunderstorms they thundered and the sun was dripping down the horizon and the sky was blue and blue and blue endless blue and the distance was salty and my eyes burned and there was no time to cry no time to cry…
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Luke and Diane sat at a round white table looking around the room. There were clusters of people forming an archipelago of cordial exchange and small talk. All but a few were strangers, friends and family of his sister-in-law Mary, now a widow, though the word sounded…
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114253
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The arrangements of lights on the cracking towers are a segment of Orion’s belt, the handle of the Big Dipper and a section of Andromeda’s spine.
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235452
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Don Galt’s butterflies swallowed Peter Robinson’s holdings on a cool and cloudy December afternoon.
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It had all been for the children, hadn´t it?
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this bleeding sun, clove studded & seedless
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Six months passed and the lovers decided speaking was no longer a necessary component in their relationship. They did this over breakfast, delicately spooning pink triangles of grapefruit into their mouths. Not a word spoken.
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149552
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My mate and I are owned, but have freedom to take to the endless sky.
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He was friends with assholes, so they gave him terrible advice: “If you really want to know if he loves you, be disgusting,” and so that’s what he did.
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13154
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it rained so hard it flooded our tent and our sleeping bags were floating
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The bells are ringing once again. They are three sets of bells, but I can tell them apart. It's cold up here, and I never thought I would end up in such a high fortress surrounded by the grey and dark and the moat and the flora and fauna foreign and slightly brutish.…
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The clip-clopping of footsteps now echoes from the opposite end of the alleyway, and as you turn to face the figure who appears behind you, the figure wearing a fierce Noh-drama mask, you determine that this time you will enlist its aid in decoding this r
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106951
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"Good, it's Link Wray again,"
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Man, you never ceased to crack me up! If you thought you'd just been called a homo, you probably wouldn't want to try to disprove it by grabbing hold of a naked guy and wrestling him to the floor of a shower room.
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116254
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The Zone is a garden of skyscrapers. Every building is a model.
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166156
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He is snoring inside the silo of his throat. The inside there shines golden but that’s not the truth. There is something caught below the gold.
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Beneath the crosshatch gazes of the satellites and above the maze of sound, seahorse clouds exhale a glaucoma haze before they are absorbed into surveillance footage
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And besides, since winter is coming, the dying clammy ground cherry makes a good Pilgrim hat for the fieldmouse. We found one the day after you left, at moonset, in the garage, building a nest with toilet paper in the air filter of the car.
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Crowded into the heart are impressions past
These are not recognized in the available light
of the present. So they sit in the dappled shade
drinking, the clear glass partially filled with various
and red liquid. Hat tilted back. Black top hat
S
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128753
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Once upon a time, my friend and I met a nanny pushing a baby carriage and reading an e-book. She wore a plaid dress, blue stockings and a white barrette. A set of wrinkles marred her tanned brow. Multitasking seemed too hard on her.
Inside the carriage
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