1494 13 11
|
When the planes crashed,when the levees broke,when the ground shook,there was a song I dreamed of,humming subsonic,a chorus of voices and prayersuncorked like the little brown jugthat holds all the love and memories.In the outback, Aborigines believewe create the world by…
|
149444
|
She lets go and it slides back too slowly.
|
14941817
|
The air is dry and smoky from a fire some miles away. The air is cool. A pair of vultures is soaring in a circle high above the rising land.
|
149496
|
That Bronte woman had me painted like Eminem’s Stan
Or a droog from Kubrick
|
1494116
|
The voices he hears are God and the Devil and he knows the difference. Therefore, he is not mentally ill.
|
14941910
|
A constellation appears in the shape of Van Gogh’s missing ear.
|
149400
|
If you were the ozone,
I’d want to leave you gaping.
|
149420
|
Nothing more savory than gossip relayed in confidential tones.
|
149494
|
I didn’t have toothpicks. You looked at me as if it summed up everything about me.
|
149377
|
rump-a-rump, bat-a-tat, barumpabumbum
|
14931914
|
Co-polar order spectrum; strobe genre (the disco light of the 70s illumining and eclipsing fiction-non-fiction-non in one "article"); UTAH! a jump from forehead-down to standing fast, a cheer, for genre studies.
|
149321
|
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
|
1493148
|
When Kat returned home from The East Street Wars, she learned that her epileptic lover, White Dog, died from madness
|
149300
|
|
1493113
|
“Your husband is an asshole, isn’t he?” he asks.
|
149374
|
|
149351
|
'That November I washed
my hair with rabbit's blood -"
|
149320
|
You were at a saloon on Water Street. Witnesses say. You were taken out of the place and put on a sloop against your will. Witnesses don’t say.
|
14921210
|
I hate math. I hate everything about it.
|
149212
|
|
14922012
|
burnt-up leaves rustle and fall
|
14921715
|
I loved to visit my grandparents when I was a kid.
|
14921412
|
A sweet fog rises to the rafters. Inhale.
|
149264
|
He had stared at the back of his neck for so long that images of his nape flashed into view randomly throughout the day like interfering signals from a station just out of reach, DESIRE CHANNEL, or something, reminding him of his skewed priorities, his fa
|
149264
|
"When we say something is good, beautiful, pious, or brave, what idea or image do we hold in our mind?"
|
149254
|
The oven door topples off of its hinges as she kicks and climbs out. She growls and quickly slaps out her still smoldering sweater shoulder. Taking a kitchen chair by the back, she swings it over her head and shatters the window. The chair breaks into splinters as she…
|
1492149
|
“Mommy,” the voice was thin as a fledgling's. “I'm here, baby,” I said. An arm rose from the pavement and small fingers wound themselves into my…
|
149250
|
How many of them, I'm wondering, are just going through the motions until the power goes out and never comes back on again? They've got to know the Americans will never let the city fall to the færies.
|
1492205
|
He tells me that only a few things had happened in his life but some of them he had felt deeply.
|
149284
|
A girl waiting at the door, heart in a Ziploc. An elderly woman stopping at the bank. A bear in a screaming contest with a troop of girl scouts.
|
