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On the way to
The Museum of Inner Light
Expect delays
Expect bumps in the road
Expect potholes and such
Expect a murder of crows
Rolling acorns over the rooftops
But what I want to know is who
Who eats a butterfly
On the way to
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160540
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Remember me? I am the large, dented acorn you threw at your brother, Ken, during the huge acorn war of 1969. You were thirteen. He was eleven. And the entire neighborhood was in your backyard that day. Steve, Jack, Jerry, Tom, Dan, Jeff, Drew. A bunch of the kids…
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My ride, my good friend Morning was due any minute, but of course, he/she was always late. My costume was a dog. I was stuck to another dog, in the act of passion. A stuffed one. A basset hound. I said my name was Lightning.
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eleven seconds of infamy / brought to you by Glenfidditch /who the hell filmed this?
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The months leading up to that night were unbearable. It was as if a debt loomed over us begging to be paid. We both knew I would find you dangling at the end of a rope, it was only a matter of when.
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80442
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And now for a word from
Hitler’s Younger Brother, the Mohel
Well, half brother really
He was always such an embarrassment to the Hitler family
Always climbing the infinite tree of hope
Against the permanent limb of gravity
No gratitude or all
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115945
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Between the wars, I hung around in an air-conditioned room. It was tiny, and I was shoved to the back, but after living outside on another man's back for months of bullets and bombs, I welcomed the stuffiness. White paint kept close walls from reminding me of the trenches'…
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Of red snappers, flaccid on porcelain slabs...
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76444
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Wheels are spinning
On the country roads tonight
I’m driving all alone
No one else in sight
And the wind’s in my hair
And I don’t care
Yeah, the wind’s in my hair
And I don’t care
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57843
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Someone has locked themselves in the large stall
They’re smoking one cigarette after another
And pulling long stretches of toilet paper off the rolls
God only knows for what purpose
And yelling for anyone who’s outside the stall
To go get them
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I remember it was late at night
I was with
Johnny Appleseed’s younger brother
Bruce
Bruce Appleseed
He was the lead singer for the band
Fake Moustache
Turns out he was just a bum
Set on vibrate
Who’d bought a 10-gallon hat once
But h
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How I managed to find you, out of all the meaningless places on earth, in a place like Villa Park, among cornfields yet! And to have spent with you an age, a lifetime of nights, to empty out a little our emptiness. And all the hand can conceal, whether
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117843
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I cannot read one more award winning novel by a female Asian author about the atrocities committed against their childhood, she thought. Then she sat down with her trusty yellow pad and Papermate fineline to write the next lyrical story of a female Asian writer and the…
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266741
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And it struck me. You needed to be on the side of a milk carton. 2 percent of course.
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She wanted wolf cubs. Not kittens, not husky pups given as infant gifts with red bows around their scraggy necks. No, she wanted wolf cubs. Even when it grew to pace the length of her hallway - proud as men - she could not love it. …
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He almost died, but hasn’t been this much alive ever.
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Charles the Bold is holding a pen.
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Viewed correctly, nature is an inexhaustible storehouse of clichés. A successful landscape is their pleasing rearrangement.
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Kick your employer in the ass. Emotions are strange experiments in honesty.
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I saw you hold her as if you were copy writing a ball of yarn
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She came to him with her arms open and a smile on her face; the kind of smile that assured him everything would be fine. He longed for that smile for months now; seeing her wearing that smile that he…
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You always liked the color of your nose, raspberry red. It matched the glittery dazzle of your rainbow hair when the neon lights hit it just right, and man did they always hit it just right, the vibrant honey-yellow big-bird frizz and feathers, swaying to and fro as…
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112442
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Years ago, I was involved in a freakish tragedy so startling and heartbreaking that it made the front page of not only my local newspaper, but “People” and “The National Enquirer.” I'm not going to tell you anything about it. This means that…
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84444
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The world hasn't ended. Your part in it is still on going. The going on world hasn't winked out. Every possibility is still out there. In there out there it doesn't matter where you are. The here and now claims you for its only tribe. They only want someone to tell them…
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Bonnie envied all of those people who instantly forgot their horrible traumas: Jessica Lynch, the Central Park jogger. Their own brains rescued them. Bonnie's brain was not so generous.
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On Day 1122 at 4:14 AM the door which has remained since installation firmly glued to the masonry behind opens and a man emerges blinking shielding his eyes against fine stinging snow.
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"How the fucks he drivin' like that?"
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I execute my plan (conceived hours earlier while painting toenails) to go next door to the 7-11 clone and buy some coffee. I am too lazy to walk six blocks to the grocery store. I understand that this is a problem but I will deal with it later I swear. …
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I'm not dreaming anymore.
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Al:In the contest for the Worst Century Ever, the Twenty-first could be a real contender. Chris:The Twentieth looks unbeatable, sure, what with the War to End All Wars, the Great Depression, Hitler, Spain, the Second World War…Al:…Stalin, and Enola Gay. The genocides alone…
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