1611 7 4
|
“Lunge to your right,” the woman on the screen instructs. She is easily six-months pregnant but still looks fit and healthy. “Now show off your baby.” She centers herself, splays her arms, and thrusts her belly out towards us. “Lunge to the left. Now show
|
161082
|
The midsummer sky is black above us when I hear Dad say my name, quiet like I’ve never heard before. I let my hands drop away from my face and crawl towards him.
|
161021
|
She stepped into a pair of high heeled slippers and began to dance. She was Salome, a witch, dancing like the most beautiful, the most skilled whores of Paris.
|
161032
|
“Why is it that you give a woman a bit of power and she turns into a man” said a new intern from the copying room “You can hear her balls rubbing on the carpet as she walks”
|
161022
|
“Let’s see that great big telescope of yours,” she exhaled hotly, “I want to grind your lenses!” The doctoral candidate dutifully stood between her and his massive telescope so her hands would encounter some instrumentation with no optical components.
|
161000
|
Caroline smiles before reaching out to touch a shapeless shadow dancing on the wall, closing her eyes as the bumps in the primer serve brail to oncoming dreams.
|
161011
|
nothing has ever happened in this or that or any other or maybe too damn many parallel universes. . . .
|
161000
|
You would never see me the same again. You'd always be peaking at me from behind your mother's apron.
|
161086
|
Years After she can go home.
|
160966
|
But the best thing about Rebekah
was the way she floated always
beneath the scent of woodburn
and dusty Middle America,
|
160974
|
|
1609139
|
|
160922
|
I saw life and beauty choking
|
160931
|
Picking up a perfect stranger—perfect meaning dead, in this case—and shaping him into the man you’d want him to be is not so easy.
|
16091311
|
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.
|
160932
|
One thing about being a musician—more specifically a drummer—struggling against the cost of living—more specifically the cost of living in the Bay Area—is that I will do just about anything to earn money.
|
1609132
|
The child closed her eyes again. Outside was sparkling, sharp looking, when she blinked he’d be here, like when she went to sleep and found outside had been whitened with snow. She closed her eyes and opened them, then closed them again. When she opened
|
1608219
|
Qaddafi's murder brought an old memory I had forgotten about.
|
160884
|
Fred's ruined face stared back at him from a fractured, mold-spotted mirror. The remains of breakfast pooled around his feet and a pair of lace panties clung to his shoe, glued there by God knew what. Bits of flesh were stuck between his yellow teeth, alo
|
160861
|
To my right, blank stares interchange with closed eyelids on an unkempt face. The minutes drip into the endless sea of night outside the window, each time creating a deeper blackness.
|
160863
|
|
160845
|
PORNOGRAPHY First He went across the floor to where she sat. One sleeve of her shirt dropped to show her shoulder, salted and brown. One hundred fish filled the wave. Now, he said. Now is now. Second The car wouldn't…
|
1608145
|
When I come to suck fresh raspberries'
juice from your hair
pressing the clasp of my mouth's purse
on the oyster of your ear;
|
160842
|
She catches my head in a leg scissors and says for me to say Ninja Uncle. Instead, I bite into her flesh that only remotely tastes like a soft salt pretzel.
|
160800
|
“Have you heard about Lucius?” The lawyer turned to the carpenter. “They say he's gone mad. Just gone; the madness of the gods.” Sitting in the barbershop were the former two, one in his forties and the other of his fifties; a gray-haired…
|
1608119
|
What if I never feel like a real artist? What does it even mean to be a "real" artist? What if nobody ever cares about what I make?
|
16081812
|
|
160733
|
Do you know first hiss of batter hitting groundnut oil in a shallow pan, I ask, on a morning after a long, dream-ridden sleep?
|
160700
|
—with spinster goddesses in the middle of things / circling looms.
|
16072010
|
Their bodies, ripe uncovered flesh, had begun to erode, the edges of their limbs and cores bitten, taken by the wind in small pieces, flaking and tearing, some parts sliding, falling away.
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