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It must have been twenty years before I first heard Willie Nelson’s voice without the accompaniment of my mother’s crying. She liked to listen to country music on the radio while she cleaned dishes, ironed shirts, watered plants, and whatever else the hou
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...Truth is, it’s because of fabulously wealthy men and women like myself who long ago sucked all the cream out of the bottle, and now we’re coming back for whatever milk remains.
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My best friend Khaled’s idea was, he’d set up a pool tournament. Nine-ball. Each church would send a player, and whichever church won, he’d join. Any church that wouldn’t shoot pool, he wouldn’t want to join.
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She smiled at him. "You want to know the secret, that's why you want her to tell - not because you want her to be happy."
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198810
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I've been invited to speak at Emerson College in Boston—it will be the summer of 2012, and I'll be speaking on running an online literary magazine; in this case, my own, Anderbo.com.
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“He’s a tough nut,” says CIA officer Marlon McGrath. “He says he’ll die a martyr rather than crack before we get to the Booster Club award for outstanding female athlete.”
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Leaning toward Joshua, Stuart says softly, “Take it easy, okay? We’ll bury him. He shouldn’t be left here, in your kitchen.”
Joshua glares. “Don’t you fucking move him.”
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Patio Joe, 55 and constantly smelling of swill, got his name because he sold and stocked patio furniture at the neighborhood Kmart. With his pockets full of dusty rags and crushed Old Golds, he'd daydream about check out girls.But I suppose you'd have to call them check out…
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I want to fly like a snail. Yes, snails fly in their minds, so does the brain of the ocean.
Does a man want to drown in the ersatz of desire?
You must understand me. You and I swam together. They call it escape velocity.
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Man on aisle nine looking for the answer to cancer
Will the partially clothed couple on aisle four please put the rest of their clothing back on
If you are finished doing whatever it was you were doing?
Man on aisle five trying to imagine
Whil
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174010
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The separation—the plan—had been a long time coming. After years of fighting and therapy and apologizing and, finally, silence, their marriage was about to die of exhaustion.
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The English phrase "Nice to see you" translates into "My gall bladder is really warm today" in Berik, a language of New Guinea.
What Language Is, John McWhorter
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The coals lose their glow.Sun kisses the back of my neck goodbye.Someone plays Boys of Summer one more time.The cooler tips... The tides go out...
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so I tighten hands with my castaway and say/you failed to impress in your folded peacock dress
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The empty faces in the crowd all mumbled...
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Handsome are the houses,effigies in synthetic stucco: prosperity divinedbehind parted walls. Behold the ersatz simplicityof the residential subdivision, contrived construction inline and line and line. …
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You think about bears and it gives you a headache? Don’t give them that power.
You see bears and it gives you a headache? Don’t run. Don’t walk but don’t run.
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Miranda laughed. The cream of the retail industry laughed...
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We creep the hill, flat on our bellies through yellowed grass and stone, black dirt grimed on our bright faces like powdered war paint. We are sitting ducks as we approach, out in the open like this but Cobb believes no one will be watching this side; it
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Before I was 18 years old, in my small home town of Bridgewater, Nova Scotia, Canada, I invented the designer jean...
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When flash and bang merge you are, according to the manual, in deep do-do.
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For weeks I hadn’t been able to think straight, waiting to lay vision on those majestic, swooning breasts.
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Snap!
Dylan’s arms flung forward as the rod bent toward the ocean. “Holy God! What did I snag?
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It is your music that makes me want to crack open my ribcage and rip out my heart as it still beats, to cauterize my carotids, and shove the mechanical insides of a clock into my thoracic cavity.
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nope. no excerpt for you.
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Conjuring white five-pointed stars. Irreproachable as Winter.Consonant with a new moon. Rising like an anchor.Not one to walk behind. No destinies touch your charities.None signal your transparencies. Shedding words like skin. Cantillating…
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'What now!' he thought, like a goddamn idiot, chiding himself like a fool giving himself a slap upside the head. 'Last thing I need is a shootout!'
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There was an ownership about the makeshift carnival. There was a therapy there.
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Route 346 is the way Pop drove to Troy long after everybody else took Route 2. Today Charlie and I drive in the opposite direction. Back then, Pop drove us to Troy on Route 346 on Sunday afternoons with the car windows…
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