2076 3 3
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She stared unbreakingly, confident, knowing; and talked so close to my face I felt cornered. But her voice was something, low and smooth.
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207600
|
Allen would stroll the remains of the orchard, reminiscing with Tad, flirting with dementia.
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207685
|
When I feel the sort of longing that sneaks up on me unawares, the sort held for the wrong kind of person that can make a woman clutch her heart in the night and sullies her blood with unwanted dreams in a thinking person's landscape, I hear, too, the deep…
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207631
|
She picked the perfect white wine that she poured in the carafe early to give it ample time to breathe before the guests arrived. She thought of everything. The first course would be Asian Carrot-Ginger soup with black sesame seeds and diced green onion
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207600
|
Tombstones are only granite symbols of a man’s life, Gus thought as he changed lanes. Children, they were the ultimate epitaph.
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207520
|
the unhealthiness of obsession and control until the lines burn bright
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20752316
|
They will take you, naked,
and put their tongues and fingers
into intimate, erogenous openings
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20751511
|
It came up heads so he is going first. He puts on a condom and gets in
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2075118
|
in time there is nothing more important for meto write than this line. It isn't defined in the way you'd like perhaps, but it doesn't matter because it will be true, and you will be true, and I will be the message you get. Some signal has…
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20752013
|
I sprinkle seaweed over the water and all twelve rise to feed. Two of them went down the hole but knew to come up. A toilet has mouths and caverns, not a bad place at all for fish.
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20741810
|
She was a forward-motion girl. She never bothered to learn to walk as a baby. Instead, she stood up and ran.
|
207484
|
Jesus Freaks will go tat head... crowns of thorns for their noggins and so on. Christ had one too...
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20741211
|
Maybe, after years of writing poems like letters, he began to notice that no one ever wrote him back.
|
207495
|
“What do you call this place?” I didn't really want to talk much in there. For some reason, talking felt too—linear. The words seemed to have a kind of reverberation into associations that seemed somewhat meaningless at the time.”
|
207444
|
by the time he's moves onto knives, she has appeared in next door's window: sliver of nut-pale belly, fingers wet with suds, nails painted bright as glitterballs.
|
207420
|
The phone rang. Pete wiped his heavy eyes and squinted so he could see. He looked at the clock. It was five o’clock in the morning. He rolled over and tucked his head under his pillow. The phone rang again. He ignored it. It rang again. He picked up.
|
20742119
|
Every day hurts, just a little, but not enough
|
207363
|
No flinch, no stretch, no letting the cook get all golden about the chopping block.
|
207321
|
Enter Tipitina’s – the rotation hole
where electric, shoeless uncles
allocate their copper goulashes
to catch white dripwater.
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207321
|
The trail wound through oak trees and climbed up a hill. The sun was high and hot whenever we came out from the cover of the trees.
We stopped under a tree.
“OK old man,” Leda said. She came to me and kissed me. Then she was unbuttoning my pants and kne
|
207351
|
Class (appears in my book Breaking it Down; no journal publication) When your neighbor James Frehley cusses you out for hanging a block and tackle from the silver maple in your front lawn, begin to pull the engine from your Galaxie anyway, smile and nod…
|
20721611
|
I sit down next to a youngster on the couch. “Would you like to see?” she asks. “See what?” I reply....
|
2072177
|
You have transformed me into an aimless, sleepless wraith...
|
207222
|
Most people assume I’m gay, and have assumed I’m gay since I was in fifth grade. Maybe sooner. Maybe fifth grade is just my first memory of recognizing what other people believed true about me. But coming out as a gay man in 1987, when I was in fifth gra
|
207273
|
Oh I'm melting all right, into a foul vapor rising from a dead volcano, not even able to spit fire, but only cold old frozen rock like dribbles of putrid plasma.
|
207232
|
Rob thought he might even make it. He'd stopped off south of Seattle, in Kent, and filled up the tank and went back in the can and topped off again. He got back on the road, to all appearances blase, blase. The montages were muted, at least for…
|
207186
|
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.
|
207152
|
Vladimir and Estragon stood hunched at the corner of Ellis and Taylor in San Francisco's Tenderloin district. Bedraggled and spent, they looked dully around them at pretty much nothing. They could have been thirty, or maybe…
|
207142
|
He stands straighter and walks toward the phone in the back, near the bathrooms. His wet sock slaps loudly against the tile floor. The buzz of conversation dims to whispers, barely audible above the roar of the espresso machine.
|
207111
|
nothing has ever happened in this or that or any other or maybe too damn many parallel universes. . . .
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