1818 5 5
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“You’re not in Saigon anymore, Mai Bi'ch,” I said, craning to read her name badge. “They’ll need to be much better than that if you want to stay in this country.”
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181872
|
"I know," Timothy explained, "he can't use it. He's a cripple." No one else seemed to understand.
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18181715
|
There he was. Minnesota Fats, short and pudgy, jowly and blond-haired.
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1818116
|
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…
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18182414
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Our lives depend on/
engineers
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18181913
|
perjured like a fickle impulse
|
181800
|
She administers the alkaloids slowly,
soaking the muscles in blight,
the body tissue beneath into corrosion.
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1818105
|
Okay, it was a long shot but who in that room wasn’t desperate to shift that shit? All our jobs depended on it.
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1818104
|
Who puts Vaseline
on the forefinger
of Lenin?
I want to know
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1818126
|
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181841
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Leo, leo, leo, leo, the word itself imprinted on my brain, carved with a pearl handled blade into my cerebral cortex, into the medulla, burrowed deep into my dreams, I miss your kissing.
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181811
|
Almost 24 hours ago in Pakistan, Osama Bin Laden was sleeping just as he had slept every night for the hundreds of days prior; comfortable in a million dollar compound with his son and advisors around him...
|
18171710
|
Even if your heart is as large as a small car, your tongue as heavy as two grown men—even then—you will have to carry it with you wherever you go.
|
18171110
|
Slip me in Between the cracks in your schedule Between the sheets of your bed Between your memories and your fears Between your eyes and the moon where I'll twinkle at you Slip me in somewhere, I won't disturb you Won't make you want to push me away Let…
|
181743
|
She brought the ends of her fingers to her mouth and moistened them in her warm saliva. The whorls of her prints glistened in the harsh light of the room, but it wasn't her own outlines she was interested in raising. His hand lay outstretched in his…
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181732
|
Out here in nearly nowhere I met this man. About him I know something something, and no one can tell me otherwise.
|
181661
|
Bearing the smell of paper on her fingertips. Ink in her hair.
|
181612
|
My parents were married for forty five years. “A lifetime,” is how the rabbi at my mother's funeral describes it. The man says it with such a tone of familiarity, of genuine sadness, that one might think he has known and adored my parents all their lives. But…
|
1816143
|
You have a house (plural, as in Spain)
|
181652
|
Man, you never ceased to crack me up! If you thought you'd just been called a homo, you probably wouldn't want to try to disprove it by grabbing hold of a naked guy and wrestling him to the floor of a shower room.
|
1816114
|
Men and their inevitable disappointments—sure, why not?
|
181600
|
wrap me in the soft, cool blanket of night. waning,the moon peers down at melike the heavy-lidded eye of some cyclops. and if I be lost like poor Odysseus,cloak me in the soft, warm wool of night. and if my eyes fail me like old Tiresias,stitch the cloth with…
|
181663
|
I can tell you all about rock bottom.
|
181641
|
"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?"
|
181510
|
I’ve been here before.
it wasn’t you though—
it was her before you,
and then she before her …
before you.
|
1815103
|
“I was looking for the review of the Alvin Ailey dance company when I noticed something in the sports pages,” says the 300-pound center. “All of a sudden it hit me–I should have been playing football."
|
1815108
|
A dark girl, quite poor, maybe three, maybe four, leaned on a statue of a horse and his man. (The rider rode him in place, but as if in a race.) Her dress needed patching, her heart needed smoothing. She'd tried to sell…
|
1815126
|
She bought her first gerbil at the age of nine. She wondered if he would die from endless logrolling. When he died from natural causes, she refused to bury him and kept a distance from the first boy who kissed her--Thomas J. Hobbit. The next year a twister swept…
|
181587
|
Before he was Francesco Martinelli
|
18151614
|
The woman carried a wooden log which was her husband into the house.
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