1871 8 6
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...I stared at my good dog with the same entreaty I saw in her eyes. Save us. Please.
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187142
|
Why do men become explorers? he asked. Because they want to cannibalize the unknown; to leave the chemicals, the furniture (and, yes, the shrew) behind; to make their way hi ho into the brush, whose weeds and lianas remain empty of the exhortations of Jesus Christ, whose…
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187132
|
So I'm digging, clawing the black earth, disappearing in its ore and shadow.
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18712018
|
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187000
|
Even the stinging warmth of the Grey Goose wasn’t fun without Lisa whispering into his ear, telling him stupid little confessions that he would recite to her in singsong the day after. And she would beat her small fists against his chest solemnly with a
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1870117
|
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…
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187071
|
Homer relaxes in his tan, faded recliner, remote in hand, and watches death unfold on his television.
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187021
|
Terry worked in a factory out in Northlake where she added a little squirt of milk and another little squirt of cream to those tiny half-and-half coffee creamers you find at every motel in the country. The owner of that factory hired only women to work
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1870135
|
Dad woke us up and said it was time to go.
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18702512
|
...fancy the idea of tapas, Spain an' all.
|
187096
|
"He doesn't have a parish," I said. "He works in a hospital in the East Bay. He told me that if I were in that hospital and I woke up and saw him, I was in big trouble."
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187096
|
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.
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18692318
|
in my youth I was enamored of the moon—that is to say, lunacyI applauded the bizarre in natureI appropriated the gratuitous from dreamsI drank brashness and frenzy from bookswhat mad things I did!(throwing a bucket of water on the naked couple in the bed)what…
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186920
|
When the writer expressed with subtle alacrity that he adored the painter, she was flattered and didn't raise objection. The writer-in his aloof manner, with experienced caution-pointedly wrote a poem directly for his muse. She never spoke of it, and hi
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18691412
|
Then I heard it -- a sound like an oboe being strangled. Teeny was farting onto the cement stoop through her jeans, a tripple flutter blast.
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186975
|
When it rains, I can really think.
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186830
|
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18681311
|
I am constricted by rings. The weight of self crushes me.
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186884
|
It don't knock you down to the goddamned ground and push your face into the mat and dare you to get back up. Just so it can knock you down again. They don't have real dreams. Dreams that make them wake up in the middle of the night. Hurting. Wanting.
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186821
|
Gracious have been my years of late;
The windy drifts blown soft.
Truth be told, such luck seemeth bait
Eliciting doubts and wonderings.
|
186801
|
Imagine instead the skater's lean feat, the toes which, honestly, may represent 25% of the entire length. The superb way she slips them into the boots. They smell like truffles.
|
186854
|
Click-clack, click-clack. The cadence of the tracks below push George back and forth between what happened and what is to come.
|
186820
|
Gateway Loves are lethal. They do not discriminate between bot or flesh, primary or clone.
|
18681614
|
fire rolls through
the drive-thru
|
1868208
|
The music, Antonín Dvořák's 'New World Symphony,' the second movement, 'Largo,' immediately alters my mood.
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186700
|
This is how we catch up. I write something down, and you read me quietly. In a year's time you will remind me, though I would have forgotten. I check to see if maybe you have put up a new song, every once in a while, but you don't sing as well as you used to.What has…
|
186774
|
My mother told me never to trust girls who speak from the side of their mouths. But Kat, with her rainbow bracelets and flat vans, can't speak any other way. A creature of A.D.D. and zip up leather, studded belt and the next No Wave, has mistaken me for the last…
|
186786
|
wild eyes open your iris sunrise
|
186710
|
|
186742
|
The dogs shit on the roof and then, every two weeks or so, the man in Apartment 311 climbs out the window with a plastic shovel and scoops the shit into a white plastic bag, which soon grows heavy with dung, dangling from his black-gloved wrist.
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