1841 9 9
|
They sat before the fire and played cribbage. He was a good player, but not as good as she was.
|
184101
|
I watch my brother carry her into the hospital, and I love him with parts of myself I didn’t know were capable of love. I love my brother with the space behind my eyes, the skin between my fingers, the ends of my hair, the crease in my neck. I love him wi
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184066
|
When she finally arrived it was like a cello playing inside me
|
18401212
|
Your soap on the shelf in the shower
melts with my every hair wash
and I'll miss it the way I should have missed you.
|
184031
|
We’re all competitive and drunk.
|
1840109
|
The tiny green light flashing in the lawn of an apartment building one night that caught Roberta’s attention while we were walking home from Café Vita.
|
184072
|
French pee runs stronger, less minty. In France the world' a pissoir.
|
1840109
|
poets can kill, or at least they once could:/
perhaps poems tamed us, if they are any good.
|
1839149
|
Maybe all quarterbacks are shitwads.
|
18391210
|
Poor kid. She didn't mean to leave my business card on her kitchen counter next to the telephone. It was a mistake.
|
18391615
|
When I died, she said, she was going to have me cremated and put my ashes in the cats’ litter box.
|
183976
|
There’s not enough cigarette cloud to conceal her, malnourished and pale beneath blue and pink lights that summon 80s-era skate rinks. She saunters towards the center of the stage, asking her bored expression to convey detachment, while a DJ that fits the
|
18391212
|
Momma called them Vaughens, "a outfit," and said, "they shoulda throwed the book at that Darla Jean."
|
1839103
|
She refuses to let her eyes cry. Her eyes played tricks on her and showed her one thing was really another. They don't deserve to cry.
|
1839208
|
Phoebe-Lou Adams wrote this of them
|
1839105
|
"She had been warned." (this started as a fun alien story and then took a human turn.)
|
18391411
|
|
183930
|
the white moon is dangling
by a thread tonight
you close your eyes
and listen to it undress
and suppress, suppress
you listen to it undress
while you yourself hang lifeless
in your own arms
not meaning to do yourself any
harm, not
|
183935
|
The vampire donated floodlights so the children could play ballgames at night. The lights came on but the dugouts remained vacant. The vampire sat alone in the bleachers. “Sometimes I am less than the sum of my parts,” he said to the sum of his parts.
|
183821
|
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.
|
183810
|
It was stubborn early winter, when everyone was cold but went outside anyways, rubbing red fingers and shuffling feet.
|
183864
|
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 …
|
1838104
|
So, like I said. Da. I have dealt with the men, when I was a lap dancer. The men they need the….manipulations. I have good hands. They want me to see them naked, their power. Here it is only the women. The massage, the facial, the waxing...
|
18381615
|
The dancer was a little chubby, but I didn't mind. It gave her more to shake.
|
18371715
|
Before the days of “customer experience,” Eddie figured out whatever information he could about his clients. He asked them for business cards, recorded their phone numbers from the reservation book, snapped photos of them in his mind…
|
1837106
|
I turn up the music and slip into drone, rock it like a tunnel in canary. When that does not erase his face, I cup my breast with one hand and let my hair fall.
|
1837118
|
“Sometimes when I feel the urge to create, I don’t know whether to grab my paints, my camera, my guitar or my pen.”
“You could have sex,” her friend, sitting in the desk next to hers, joked.
|
183721
|
She persisted. “How long have we been here?”
A note of anger crept into his voice. “How long? How long? Why …, why ….” He swallowed hard, realized he had forgotten.
|
183711
|
Once, when I had not talked to you in a long time, I woke with your name in my mouth.
|
183772
|
It’s not just the mailman. It’s the logo on the mailbox down the street. It’s the uniform. It’s any man or woman in the whole unsettling profession.
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