1850 16 15
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lost in a taxi cab, 4:30 am
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18501816
|
captured by his lens and plates/
before humidity and hydrocarbons/
smudge the crisp clean lines
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18501312
|
They confess love for Karaoke and metal rock. They have purchased expensive Stratocasters and Zildjians.
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18501918
|
We were in the car more than anywhere else. A few days driving, then a few days to get back home.
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184986
|
Every lunch time the numerous small jukeboxes that are distributed about the dining area fill the air with webs of King Curtis and Benny Goodman.
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18491110
|
When you were nine your head fell off in the playground. Dr Mort was called. He pasted it back on with PVA glue. You'd never know now.——When you were nine your arms turned into trees. Dr Mort worked his magic with the chainsaw. You still need light pruning once…
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18492315
|
“Why, you tell a story,” one young fellow said. The expression on his face said “How gauche, how passé!”
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18492113
|
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18491913
|
memories that no longer make sense
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1849107
|
Sometimes after bookbinding for a few hours at the hand-sewing table, Jillie would, after scraping her knife too roughly over the glue of an old book's spine, feel not like a resurrector of literature, as she should, but a killer. Not a calculating or
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184923
|
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1849128
|
In the office supply store on Union, Jeremy, the stock boy, shelves tubs of rubber bands. Tubs with an easy-access pop-top and a see-through container. If Hendy saw these tubs, she would think these particular rubber bands resembled anorexic gummy-worms,
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184954
|
Max is the color of burnt caramelized sugar
the sweet crust that decorates our bright enameled pots.
|
184956
|
This violin of oneself, this rough strum of I, arc of wing over thick rib. This masturbatory chirping like the meat of God clenched in your teeth, an apostrophe giving aloneness possession over the inarticulate, a bridge between chords.
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184974
|
There was a time when she could quell the loathing that Fred inspired in her. She could force it down. Back then, for instance, when they’d been in counseling, the ball of hatred had only been a little, overripe orange - squishy and occasionally mushed
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184851
|
One of her favorites was of an old axe asleep on a desert floor. She told people the axe had the western lips of September. That it held the song of the ocean and the dreams of a scarecrow. Some thought she was mad to talk in such a way. Others believed h
|
184800
|
Remember the glass changing room just off the pool terrace? It's been replaced by a juice bar. Seems fitting, really.
|
184874
|
her parents were gone they sat on the love seat side by side saying nothing the longest time
|
184831
|
Newsome glared at the sleeping woman, slumped over the edge of the hard, metal table, her head settled comfortably into the crook of her arm. Over an hour she's been in that position, he thought. Despite the harshness of the room, the fluorescent lights,…
|
184852
|
They are really living (they)
say things they don't mean
. . .
Do not know what they say
Take the path without heart,
seeing the image
. . .
The moon rises above them
It does not move their blood
Nothing calls out to their blo
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184843
|
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…
|
18481311
|
Know what you’ll become? You’ll become one of those guys who masturbates in any single occupancy restroom that locks.
|
184842
|
We've worked silence over /
Like pros, our best work together.
|
184832
|
your olive-pitting thumbs
|
1848168
|
The three of us traveled seven hours that day and Al traveled as far in the service of finding the right tool for his writing.
|
1848146
|
The handsome man at the opposite table swivels his head at the tall cool slim blonde entering the breakfast cafe. The ordinary woman sitting with him adjusts her chair accordingly. She pretends to ignore her husband's distraction, smoothes her hair, licks her…
|
184851
|
The light against the nylon walls of the tent gets me feeling a little down. The air's wet inside, but it's warm. The whole world outside is creaking and chirping, everything that wakes up with the dawn's first tepid blue light does so and starts making n
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18482916
|
a world of probability against plague
|
184742
|
He could smell the vestiges of alcohol on his folks. They’d let him stay up till midnight to mark the new year, and his mother had sneaked him a taste of her whisky. He remembered now what she’d last said before sending him off to bed, how strange it soun
|
18472319
|
Mack’s mind held a chandelier.
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