2001 5 1
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The waitress says,
“That’s a memory,”
as the smoke dances around her head.
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200142
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1.) Please discuss any real-life problems you may have encountered having to do with the concept of “the look” or “the male gaze” as propounded in some of the feminist criticism readings we've done thus far this semester.
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20011512
|
To touch our skin was filthy,
to spread our legs a mortal sin. You closed
the keyholes to keep us apart, so we used them
to keep you out and keep our secrets to ourselves.
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200111
|
“I will become a respected novelist!” proclaimed Billy.
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200164
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Light. And shade. Line and shape. Colour, form and perspective. Wall, wood, ceiling or canvas. Pigment in eggyolk or linseed oil. Stroked by brush or spread by knife. On small panels or plastered on vast spaces. All these problems to be worked over and solved. Then …
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200110
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There were literally thousands of criteria that got people of every stripe and strata on the list, which had been maintained since before the very first human fingers scrawled crude images on blank surfaces.
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200064
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Gorgonzola. It's what she was to bring this time. Plumtree's potted meat. What it was last time.
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200000
|
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2000105
|
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199987
|
a dry bony voice/from a desiccated soul/coughs up its own throat.
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199911
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Eyes so much deeper, that the internal flow could not hope to equal the intensity fired beyond iris, pupil and sclera. So blue, that life could not exist in the fragile shape of his heart, blue veins outlining an ever enlargening circumference…
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199900
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Despite the light of the torches, the darkness around them was overwhelming. They could not see the walls unless they leaned the flames close.
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19991412
|
A sweet fog rises to the rafters. Inhale.
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199863
|
They’ve thrown the painter in the trash upside down with his red pajamas and feet sticking up in the air, with his shoes on. The large red hand of judgement pointing at him, that gives us direction and law and shame, gives us a large red headache.
Whi
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19981110
|
Your boredoms are not my fascinations. Your boredoms Belong to the ice caves with the Mammoths, Although haven't they been tortured enough by the Changing winds? Your boredoms are far from twinkling Objects in the beaks of ancient crows,…
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19982719
|
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199872
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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…
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199842
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August 14, 1945.Vincent had kissed a lot of girls before then - and a lot of women after. But there had never been a kiss like that one. And because of that photo apparently the whole country, damned near the whole world, thought so too.He'd tried to get her…
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199844
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Our Lord Savior Google/ answers prayers without prejudice/ and leaves the self-hatred up to you
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1997107
|
The Muse stands at the summit of a paragraph playing with a yo-yo.
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199720
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“I can’t believe you went ahead and got pregnant without me,” I said.
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199723
|
It's blues, bars and boots since you went away. You were wiferustled like sheep, like cattle.
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19972212
|
It starts on the Fallopian Speedway
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1997109
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poets can kill, or at least they once could:/
perhaps poems tamed us, if they are any good.
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199677
|
Tsunamis are quiet at first:
not one big wave but many
small injustices, so chaotic
all the pressing all the weight
of the noise, like a stone
holding you under.
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199676
|
At noon on a weekday in the off season, when the trickle of tourists who wandered into the Mermaid Curio Shoppe had died out completely, she walked in with wet hair, leaving tiny puddles on the floorboards.
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199662
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It was already 3:30 PM. Where had all the time gone? Linda looked up from her computer monitor over at Carlos, who had his face intently pointed at his. "We have to go soon," she said. "We want to avoid rush hour traffic.""Where did we put the address?" Carlos answered, not…
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199600
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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…
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199653
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When farming started in September, I thought of gambling, of my childhood best friend’s marriage ruined due to gambling, and of farming as a trope for living in the Midwest.
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199552
|
When I left my wife, I got the birds. Two parakeets, blue and yellow, male and female. They were loud, messy and, because my ex rarely cleaned their cage, smelly. So I got them. At first, I called him Rod and her Tippy. Rod Taylor and Tippy Hedren? The Bi
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