2046 5 1
|
in his thin, swanky
black leather jacket
out on the town at night
in Mexico with his girlfriend
|
204662
|
Whoever came up with the term kismet is an absolute moron. There isn't a single reason, or word, that can describe what exactly my brain has concocted in the face of him. No, kismet isn't what makes it happen. It's my own stupidity..
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204687
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Don't sleep. Tiny orange Balloons like seahorses are bobbing This way and that trying To get your hair to lift Off its marvelously mud- Swamped and pillowy support beams, blue sea strand by green. Don't you want to see…
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20461311
|
When she opens the door, I say hi and introduce her to my friend, a bottle of J.T.S. Brown. She laughs and tells me to come on in before I fall down.
|
2045124
|
all / the secret letters/ ever dreamed up
|
2045139
|
with cool confidence
and believable body language
|
204510
|
Almost on cue, Xavier emerges and is in the vendor’s face. “X,” as he is known around here, is indoctrinating the obvious newbie on the merits of showing up earlier and the logistics of placeholders and markers.
|
204500
|
Seven black and orange Tortoise-shell kittens nursed in a crate the day Sue returned from rehab, to her parent's Atlanta home.
|
2045116
|
It is certain. The roofs are hats for the houses because you wear a hat in the rain or the snow or even and sometimes especially the sun. The houses are curious. They keep their hats on at night. The downspouts for run-off water are strands of hair such as…
|
204588
|
your matching glasses up to mine in the fake air anymore, or click your widening fingernails against the hard bed railings in protest of anything you might be feeling in the floating silt-like depths of your jagged nerves, but…
|
20451815
|
Together / they peeled and fed each other pink fruit, / ordered expensive pink beef, went on / vacations and viewed pink sunsets / on paradise beaches.
|
204541
|
He lit my cigarette even though he didn't want me to smoke. Buying me drinks all night, he didn't complain, but he thought I drank too much.
|
20451918
|
We were in the car more than anywhere else. A few days driving, then a few days to get back home.
|
204511
|
Kurosawa was silent as we traipsed through the destruction, carefully side-stepping piles of sodden pages and heaps of swollen, broken-backed texts. Workers in coveralls used wide brooms to push water toward a floor-drain at the back of the store.
|
2045125
|
Thistle and cracked corn were thrown to us each morning and the occasional live chicken...
|
2045104
|
Who puts Vaseline
on the forefinger
of Lenin?
I want to know
|
20451613
|
If this was the day when the bribes of whiskey and US dollars would fail to work. If on this day a black bag, smelling of shit and fear, would be pulled over his head – the bloodied roots of a knocked out tooth tickling his neck.
|
204421
|
Paper Bird, Devotchka, TV On The Radio
|
20442414
|
Our lives depend on/
engineers
|
20443012
|
What scares her about libraries are unshelved books, the ones you thumb through while you are waiting for the elevator, because you realize that there are too many books in the world and you are holding that particular book only because it is lost.
|
204451
|
One year, she got a kite.
|
204421
|
"Look at this," she says while thumbing through the guide book, "look at what we can do on Jooga Booga island. Says here, 'Parasailing over the sapphire blue sea, one soars hundred of feet above water-skiers, boaters, and snorkelers, and the picture is b
|
20432517
|
The scent of fresh cut grass./
The idiot sense of accomplishment/
mowing the lawn can bring.
|
20432216
|
Maybe she would get married and have a baby, she said. Not with me, I said
|
204362
|
The night is a jelly slosh, a fertile rumble, a rhumba, black and seeping, thick. An arm rises.
|
2043129
|
Wake up! But it was already too late for Charles.
|
204386
|
"Love, against the dying of the light." (An unusual story about George Whitman, former owner of the revered & beloved Shakespeare & Company bookstore in Paris, France.)
|
204300
|
The words of prophets only serve to demonstrate that ‘unreliable narrative’ can often result in poor literature; unfortunately, poor literature can attract a very large following.
|
204200
|
A night bird lands on the windowsill with a struggling copper moth in its beak. The bird cocks its head at Rasmus, then swallows the clockwork insect in a gulp before flying away.
|
204221
|
At 1 a.m. Route 205 is empty. Del drives. Carla sits in the darkness with the directions to the Nassau County Jail on her lap...
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