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A cloud of light, white smoke floated out of the driver’s side window. Nate and Zach sat on the front bench seat, talked, and puffed away. “Breath in and say Mom is coming,” said Zach.
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20701816
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We die in order to get some rest
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207064
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Where truth is revealed
To all, transparency
In policy, including
The REAL reasons
We are at war.
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2070215
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You got a lot of people, out there
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2069106
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It’s always fun and easy/
to punish the poor
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2069179
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I turned on the television last night, and one of the networks had a segment about a girl with no nose.
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2069129
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the Great Way itself is very smooth and straight,/but folks take to the challenge of rough, wild roads.
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206900
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You came to me In the self made calm Causing quite a storm You want me to rejoice and relax? Not knowing my fears Shall we ever fly?
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20691815
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I murdered my inner child/
at 7 and neither denied/
nor confessed the act until now.
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206998
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We know a poem isn't going to stop you From invading our town. It won't get you to Listen to our birds any more than to our Sunsets. That's not why we do it. We know A poem isn't going to break the blade of Your knife like an…
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206922
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I know it’s nobody’s fault, and that one thing had nothing to do with the other, because it was this way for me since I was born; they just didn’t figure it out for a while that with one of my ears I could hardly hear, and with the other, I couldn
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206842
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Martin named it “Squishy” for two reasons. The first reason was because it was the noise it made when it came out of the hole in his basement. The second is because it’s what it did to Grandfather...
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206872
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"I know," Timothy explained, "he can't use it. He's a cripple." No one else seemed to understand.
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2068149
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It's eerie. There are no birds. My friend and I take our morning walk in a bubble of silence.
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20681913
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perjured like a fickle impulse
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206822
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1. The Walking Heart Attack Man has two outfits. In the summer he dresses in a short sleeve checkered button down shirt and high waisted Bermuda shorts with sandals. In the winter he wears dark pants and loafers with a gray corduroy coat…
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206856
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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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20681313
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My friend says there's some kind of bug that bites its mate's head off after they have sex.
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206754
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2067107
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The first husband was young and lovely. He had a little nose and long fingers he used for things like planting begonias in my clay pot. I did not do flowers. So that was nice.
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206700
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An armpit fart is a simulated sound of flatulence produced by creating a pocket of air between the armpit of a partially raised arm and the hand, then swiftly closing this pocket by bringing the arm close to the torso.
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206788
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So she set about eliminating the problem, all the time recalling some newsmagazine program she’d seen as a child: a discussion of hantavirus, nasty and deadly and spread by mice.
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20672117
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For my Dad
Happy Father's Day!
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20672821
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My only brother. Frantic flesh clings to bone.
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206785
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I get that drunk feeling right before it starts to rain. The sky is dark and heavy and the clouds break open with a flash and suddenly there is water running down all of the windows like one million pairs of eyes crying hard. The street is suddenly …
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206751
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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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206796
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But do come close enough for me to hear.
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20661616
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There were one hundred titles on the list. One hundred books that could neither be assigned nor put on a recommended reading list.
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206697
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A man lives with a woman he loves enough to live with, but not enough to marry and not enough for kids. He knows he could love others enough to marry, enough for kids, but he's not the kind of man to find those women when he's with this woman.Sometimes “love”…
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206653
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The summer everyone read Faulkner, I read Hemingway. Out of spite.
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