2050 6 1
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Bit by bit I was traveling away, we thought. Maybe I’d join myself, all together, in Toronto. Or in an industrial coffee can. Or in the closet. “Check the closet,” I pointed.
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205054
|
Max is the color of burnt caramelized sugar
the sweet crust that decorates our bright enameled pots.
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20502114
|
I don't want / to write about the body indulged, desires / denied, tortures invented, pleasures innate
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2049129
|
in which creative destruction holds the heads of entire populations beneath the surface of the water in bathtubs until the bubbles stop
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2049102
|
I never pulled it off, never rode an atom through a super collider with a nose full of cocaine and a drink in my hand. Never was a bullet, zooming through the city, skin pressed to bone, nerves on fire. Never was an atom bomb, ever-exploding in slow motion, ripping off…
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20492214
|
The night we crossed the Madres my father stuffed his Stetson full of cash.
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20491412
|
The hour reflected those pleasant moments when evening hunger can be satiated by anticipation alone, before the pangs become demanding.
|
204942
|
All right, so the frog I risked my lips on (not to mention the contents of my stomach) . . . .
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2049114
|
Upon learning the fetus has fingernails, Missy texts her boyfriend: It has nails! He won’t reply because he’s just left for war, but she does it just the same.
|
204927
|
Regina Dawn "Gina" Edwards, 49, passed away June 2, 2006.
R.I.P. "Ridge Woman"
|
204877
|
The mountains of humility went silent, / the rain of regency dried its eyes
|
204894
|
Three hours isn't that long.
|
20481311
|
they were open weekends if we needed to bring him in for euthanasia.
|
2048115
|
She wears a green and pink bikini and walks real slow, poking her chest out so people will notice her.
|
204833
|
Describe how like or unlike a vagina a peach pit is, using no anatomical words.
|
2048107
|
god bless my shapeless head. we are good at becoming older. i feel incredibly negative all the time.
|
204887
|
I'd been working for two years as a barista in a Starbuck's in a giant, two-story Borders in an upscale mall on Rt. 355, a main artery between Washington D.C., and Frederick, Maryland. I'd finished my M.F.A in 2000 and was trying to build up steam for more grad…
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204812
|
The zombie apocalypse was long foretold as a rather exciting bit of bother involving shotguns and chainsaws, but the reality of it is rather depressingly boring.
|
20482212
|
The drinking will continue/
until morale improves
|
204811
|
WIFE (calling back from kitchen): "Dick Cheney's penis!"
|
2047155
|
Megalomania is a kind of backwards leprosy. It rots your insides out while your skin glistens and grows tighter around your bones.
|
204784
|
“I don’t know what’s going on there,” Hank, who hated his name and wanted a more Biblical name because those names (Jeremiah! Matthew! David!)—although common—sound ominous, said as he pointed up to the top of the apartment building that housed the whores
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2047134
|
. . . she didn’t bow her head.
|
204700
|
“Where are you going?” asked the young man. Teary-eyed and beaten, he gently put his hands on the shoulders of Snow-child, her back turned from him. “Home,” Snow-child said. “I'm going back to Norway.” …
|
204700
|
author's note: the borgs in this story have been programmed to think of themselves as IT and in speech refer to selves as YOU* Though IT too had ball and socket joints, the Borg could not sit down to face ITs inquisitor. While IT felt the need to clean up the fallen…
|
204741
|
What I need to secure from you now are two swears on this copy of Camp Bylaws for the Hearty and True that you won’t let my misinformed intrusion dampen your beginnings.
|
204700
|
The ice in Mum’s drink clinked as she rolled the glass across her forehead. “Ith that a gay thing or ith that a vampire thing? ’Coth I’m finding thith all a bit confuthing.”
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204711
|
maybe if I bat my lashes just right, or look prim enough to fly, you just might touch me tonight, and the dream will pop and fizz and I will wake somewhere, your hands smoothing these lines of worry away.
|
204755
|
Crawl to the dark places I love most, loud music and off key laughter, glimmering green and brown bottles eagerly holding the dim lights overhead inside themselves like ransomed stars.
|
20471911
|
It's been sixteen days since I spoke with another soul. I don't mind much, but I know enough about people to know most would think I'm mighty odd. Muriel, for example. She'd be pissed as all get out. …
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