2042 10 8
|
Because if they’re wavering, it's about the coin, always about the coin.
|
20421913
|
It’s not the money. The money’s/
just a way of keeping score.
|
20421311
|
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.
|
204254
|
It made a satisfying ‘pop’ when Donnie’s nose crushed under my knuckle-scared right. I threw another to his jaw, and then a left into his gut. It had forced the air out and Donnie crumpled to the floor gasping, half sitting, gurgling through his nose.
|
2042149
|
It would be another difference a building has from a “sculpture”. It would be something that even photographers would have difficulty in disguising, since many modern buildings, even many modern photographs of buildings, place such emphasis on symmetry. For both…
|
20412517
|
The scent of fresh cut grass./
The idiot sense of accomplishment/
mowing the lawn can bring.
|
20412216
|
Maybe she would get married and have a baby, she said. Not with me, I said
|
204188
|
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…
|
204185
|
Mars' circled state is slain, no bird of Jove That roosts protected in its green youth's flush; Its storms no more bring moistness from above, From blue beads cradled in one thunder's flash. The god of War was husband once to Love: Her arms were …
|
204121
|
"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
|
204162
|
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..
|
20411918
|
We were in the car more than anywhere else. A few days driving, then a few days to get back home.
|
2041104
|
Who puts Vaseline
on the forefinger
of Lenin?
I want to know
|
2041129
|
Wake up! But it was already too late for Charles.
|
204186
|
"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.)
|
204065
|
At age eleven, I murder the coffee table. I gouge with every available implement: thumbtacks, Lefty scissors, the plastic hand of my Barbie accomplice (who really should have known better). It is a slow death. In the end, there is nowhere to hide the body. When I am…
|
204040
|
My mother looked up and began to laugh, it was a nervous tittering, but there was delight in her eyes at the crazy spectacle of our small black puppy eluding, probably taunting all these armed police.
|
204062
|
The night is a jelly slosh, a fertile rumble, a rhumba, black and seeping, thick. An arm rises.
|
20401815
|
Together / they peeled and fed each other pink fruit, / ordered expensive pink beef, went on / vacations and viewed pink sunsets / on paradise beaches.
|
20403012
|
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.
|
204041
|
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.
|
2040125
|
Thistle and cracked corn were thrown to us each morning and the occasional live chicken...
|
203900
|
it was one of those days, nostalgically bathed in technicolor, kodachrome and lost shades from a more vibrant distant past. squirrel jesus sat still
|
203933
|
Portions of my heart and bones
|
203976
|
This no man's island I'm perched high above isn't always so beautiful to the casual beholder of newly printed maps. Oh don't go and get your clouds all wrong. Puffed or thin, everything I say I believe in is a real feeling, until the music dies…
|
2038124
|
all / the secret letters/ ever dreamed up
|
203821
|
Paper Bird, Devotchka, TV On The Radio
|
20381313
|
We honor fierce, quick, cunning/
thought-in-action types
|
20384024
|
What used to be a scene has broken into fragments and blips of her on a screen I can’t control or manipulate.
|
203811
|
What? No, no, where did my world go? I was in the middle of… something. What's going on? What's stroking my face?
|
