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Scientists have discovered what I already did once on dope
way back in the Sixties.
There are so many other earths out there
that they are almost infinite.
Now in our other lives we have to
shuttle from planet to planet
reading our poems. And o
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From this distance, he reminded me of a sleazy pink flamingo, waiting for feeding time at the zoo to deepen the timbre of his feathers and hint at the promise of a narcotic aviation before his commune of hens.
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Coffee comes in KCups and you can't fight five wars at the same time.
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It was also witnessing the emergence into explicitness and clarity of everyone's expendability.
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The man was older and had never found a wife. Years of accumulated pain had short-circuited his instincts so that the first time he met the woman, he doubted her. Each time he spoke to her, he felt himself responding, but he wouldn't allow himself to plea
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163433
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Stop! the voice commands in a guttural shriek. Do not move. You are under arrest. But the voice is only in his head; he has created it the way a writer creates characters on a page, and it is just as real to him as if someone were really there.
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104230
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I would like to invite the public to an open-air,
environmental art piece called Hot Weather.
The exhibition will take place this summer. It will
not begin until the temperature reaches 90 degrees.
This demonstration is available free of charge
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square mannequin-wives who can’t look in their eyes
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The river is there inside, the liquid living inside like light, moving rapidly over unknown rocks, approaching, and intimate. As if the source of all is inside me. Someone, anyone, says the word “available” from 3 tables away, as if it’s the only word o
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Days come and go. Faster through the years. Falling like Christmas tree needles, the longer the tree stands. The days will eventually end. Only one day a year is special. Even when we say we are too old to notice them, we do. We know they are there. Even when we…
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I know who done it. Them goddamn taters. I walked around the yard and started picking up pieces of the camaro, wondering if, from above, they’d laid the parts out into some kinda cult symbols or something.
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Goddamned crabs. He got em. Lenny. Itch. Itch. Itch. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
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She says, “He's like, the eighth wonder of the world.” She says this without irony, and this makes you feel embarrassed for her. The laughter in this small, smoky space is getting louder. You chew your chapped lips and put your…
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99631
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I can still see us sitting, somewhere (was it in a café?) imagining what it would be like if our mutual faces blended into the future (the waiters posing as in a Manet painting.) Putting our bones together, our broad features, Bohemia and Sweden.
Yo
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She also, wearing the requisite Hawaiian lei in this naked wedding photograph, but her low-swung breasts were hanging all the way down to her navel. Her navel itself appeared to be about as round and deep as a shot glass. There was this smear of gaudy flu
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She turned on the television. The newscaster was her husband. She changed the channel. Her husband interviewing her husband. She changed the channel. A baseball game. Her husband pitched to her husband who popped a fly ball which was caught by her husband
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She meets her old dance instructor, named Ira, in the back of a bus that wheezes & squeaks. The passengers seem to deny the small clouds of white exhaust
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Bury my wounded ego Mr Sitting Bull.Keep me from committing suicide Ernest Hemingway.Take me for a ride above the clouds Christopher Reeve.Fly me to the moon Frank Sinatra.Invite me out to dinner Marlon Brando.Give me immunity from Hollywood John Cassavetes.Keep me from…
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“the calendar of my future was in there!”/
yes: all tomorrows belong to the dead cats,/
their decisions relinquish one day per day.
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Don’t get me wrong. Maria Shriver is hot, but her angled face makes me think a knife thrower is out to get me.
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it's the constant reminders of something that was never a constant remind her but i suppose there is no ticking clock on that which is wondrous and it was right right it's hard to come up with cleverly phrased universal truths and it's hard to make…
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128532
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Why not just self-publish on Fictionaut and be read by thousands of my peers? Why not release my cherished work directly to my thousands of Facebook or Twitter or blog friends? Can the budding writer that I am realistically expect a larger audience?
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Kiln dried mummies, landscape of once were alpacas. / Now all the wool is farmed in Alva
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I've brought a stack of old photo albums to the home with me. It'll be nice to go through them with Mum, I'm thinking.When I arrive she's doing her usual routine, where she sits silent for a time then bursts unprompted into laughter, lungs rattling, shouting at some…
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“You people remember the thing you learned in science about every action creating its own equal and opposite reaction? The same is true in other realms. All of existence is continually recycled…again and again in infinite permutations. In other words,
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That’s true, you know, what they said about the drummer and spontaneous combustion.
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A kind of sucking darkness into
A kind of noir celebration of despair
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Sad to tears, not bubbly, ordered as all in Madison, outpatient by Elizabeth Karlin, internist, later a bullet-proof vest abortion provider.
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“Psst."I paused in my tracks as I walked in front of the building where Two Doughboys used to be.I looked around. The streets were deserted. I saw the big “For Rent” sign in the empty window where the sweet smell of pizza used to emanate. “Over…
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