1782 9 6
|
he’s recognizable in the earliest images of misery: a hand shoving a young gladiator before the lion; the fire devouring a witch in Salem. And here he is. Again.
|
178242
|
your leather jacket zip has left a row of teethmarks on her arm
|
17821311
|
Max leads the parade up the hill. He is sawing on his violin, wearing nothing but a raincoat.
|
178100
|
... all my friends are girls; I like opera; I can answer all the questions about male and female ejaculation – without stammering – in sex ed. classes.
And Braydon? In boardshorts, tall and tanned and naked from the waist up ...
|
178121
|
Paper Bird, Devotchka, TV On The Radio
|
17811311
|
I am constricted by rings. The weight of self crushes me.
|
1781117
|
Winter melts to ashes and now we walk where hillocks dip like pillows, where a warm pocket of air keeps the scent of spring beauties for itself. Sensitive vetch so easily shocked folds under a feather yet the earth trembles where trout lilies shove. Buds stall on lilacs…
|
178100
|
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…
|
178110
|
Mid-Dawn//Mid-Dusk -- Wait for me.
|
178172
|
I can't even tell you when it all started to come apart, but I do know that they're just nervous tics, responses to stress. We all go through it.The fact is I wouldn't even be bringing up any of this if it wasn't for the fact of the… incident… Shit, I know I wasn't…
|
17811510
|
|
178032
|
Put blisters on your fingers and
Put plasters on your head but
Put peppers on your privates and
You’ll wish that you were dead!
|
178066
|
When I wake up and look to my left, will you be there with me, snoring like an asthmatic bear?
|
1780135
|
She slipped into a silky sheath dress, and stepped into black sequined heels just as the doorbell rang. Her date had arrived to take her to his much touted Art opening in town. Reaching under the bathroom sink for a final mist of hair spray she realized too late…
|
178000
|
Where was it? Tino wondered, craning his neck, plastic bag in hand. He would have sworn there was a Barnes & Noble along this stretch. Had it closed since his mother had last been in the hospital two years ago?
|
178021
|
Six thousand dollars was a small price for a man's life. Mario was in the back seat of the Honda with Johnny next to him handcuffed, all tense. Francisco had it on a rap station, the sort of music that gave Mario a headache.
|
178000
|
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.
|
177986
|
“Mules don’t like to dive, Esther.”
“I said maybe, Hugh. Maybe.”
|
177944
|
I’ve had it to here you see.
|
1779137
|
|
1779138
|
Steel beams. Welds painted over green. Yellow numbers of some sort. Old phone booths. Tags on the walls. I looked up and saw where bits of water fall down from the overpass. Pigeon up there. Washing his wings or something like that. Greyness. I was in a truck.…
|
177900
|
In desperation, the city council imported a shaman to exorcise whatever demons had possessed the house.
|
17793018
|
I dreamed that coffee grounds had spilled on my Buffet. There was another clarinet, a silver one, that belonged to a man not in the room, that was clean of debris.
|
177951
|
She watches too much VH1 for a five-year-old.
|
17792018
|
|
177996
|
We married in the ruins of a pachinko hall, the tiny bones in the pocket of your tracksuit luring a pack of wild dogs out from the underpass.
|
1778109
|
It’s a little known fact that eels are often lost in translation – only the spotted variety, not the striped or the common and certainly not the electric.... I think about that lovely hippie girl and her knowledge of eels, sometimes.
|
177811
|
I bet if I went back, Old Stradlater would still be combing his gorgeous locks in front of the same goddam mirror.
|
1778136
|
And so it begins, like this, waiting to long for a lazy train out of West Toledo...
|
177820
|
She’ll get a dog
a Weimaraner
I know
She’ll call him Alfie
after her first
two dogs
He’ll try to get up
on the bed
She’ll say, Alfie, no, no
But in the night
she will let him
so as not to be lonely
|
