1801 12 9
|
in which creative destruction holds the heads of entire populations beneath the surface of the water in bathtubs until the bubbles stop
|
18012414
|
Our lives depend on/
engineers
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180101
|
The soft twin winds
of peace and harmony
flow through your nipples
It is not milk
that gives such flow
but the whiff of life’s
spirit, the wind
of poetry
the renewal
and the silence
of the love
you give me
I suck like a new
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1801209
|
In that mix of sports and religion, TV was what there was of virtue. I thought bars were nicer.
|
180154
|
You know how it is, one day a good friend sends you this long note telling you how-the-hell they are or aren't getting along in the frigging world
|
180100
|
At the time I first went to work for Mr. Byron my family was in a sorrowful state. My dad, much as I can recall, was one of those roving kinds, called himself a carpenter or contractor, depending on the kind of job he was aspiring to, and was subject to f
|
18012015
|
Feminine, safe, though disembodied,/
she shapes your life in ways/
your mother never could.
|
180151
|
One year, she got a kite.
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18012821
|
My only brother. Frantic flesh clings to bone.
|
180122
|
Janice’s jaw dropped when I told her how much we could get for it. “Enough to never work again and get a nice new pair of these,” I said, squeezing her tits.
|
180184
|
He beats the girl, stabs her 22 times, rapes her, then uses his fingertips to push her orbital sockets into the back of her head before killing her. At trial, he laughs about whether or not there…
|
180000
|
His footing unsure and his clothes covered in vomit, he grabs the railing and stumbles up the three steps. He pulls off his shirt, finds a cleaner area on the puke-covered garment, wipes sweat off his forehead, dripping wet from the humid, stormy night, a
|
180064
|
When the arguing started, their voices would get louder and louder, till they broke into my dreams. That night, I woke and listened in the dark for what felt like a very long time. Perhaps I should have been afraid, but I wasn't. For one thing, they never
|
180088
|
Out the window we could see the parking lot and, across the street, the Bijou Moonlight Laundromat.
|
18001510
|
. . . quit being so rigid, open up to the pasta.
|
180011
|
Right away, like toadstools, there were crackpot theories. The first: that kids out on the lake dock, against fire department warnings...
|
1799139
|
Dear Fictionaut Family,Some of you may recognize my name and remember reading my work, some of you may have joined more recently and be wondering what the hell I'm doing addressing you directly. I began writing on Fictionaut in 2010, during four years as I was fragmenting…
|
179921
|
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
|
179900
|
A few people bristled and looked at Jim, but since he was avoiding their gaze, they had no choice but to return their attention to their own table and pretend to pay attention to the conversation they previously had been pretending to pay attention to.
|
179985
|
We were old. Wind came in with small threats and played games with drapes. A print of orchids and some other green affair that looked to me like kiwis. Sadie was arranging some items on a desk and I noticed there was a cricket on the window. I was thinking…
|
1799104
|
They live a simple life..two solitudes by lamplight.
|
179810
|
I’ve been here before.
it wasn’t you though—
it was her before you,
and then she before her …
before you.
|
17981711
|
There were only two students in the sculpture class: an 86 year-old Jewish woman and myself.
|
17982316
|
They will take you, naked,
and put their tongues and fingers
into intimate, erogenous openings
|
17982719
|
On the bus I sat like an ounce.
|
179810
|
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.
|
179811
|
Who do you think are the true intellectuals? I'm a fan of both Gore Vidal and Harold Bloom although most people can't stand either of them. George Plimpton is interesting...
|
17981911
|
|
1798153
|
The Nurse left work at five o’clock, walking down Dekalb Avenue toward Flatbush. He didn’t frequent the bar closest to the hospital, although he guessed other nurses and doctors from Brooklyn Hospital did. But he liked to pretend that he cared about h
|
179841
|
"What's that smell?" Osama glares at me from the front seat of the Trans Am.
"What smell?" I say.
"You smell like a diaper. Are you wearing a diaper?" Osama and Peach both laugh at me.
"No... maybe, its my Baby Soft perfume. Is it too strong?"
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