1952 11 4
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A wall of icons can be beautiful if you don’t look closely at the hands. The hands tell stories of too short lives and unrequited love.
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195111
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The drive back to Sac does nothing to sober me up, either, and although Avaline and I are ready to hurl, she takes me to her afternoon support group, “Lean On Me: A Place for Manic-Depressive and Bipolar Sufferers to Come Together.”
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195120
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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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19511714
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Tan my hide. Feed me to rabid / macaques.
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1951166
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...when she spoke, her voice still seemed to spill bourbon from a heavy crystal tumbler, and drift cigarette smoke in a dark paneled room.
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1951208
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Phoebe-Lou Adams wrote this of them
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195153
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It's a pretty strange feeling when you think you're about to bite into some ice cream and instead it's gazpacho.
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195135
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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.
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19501212
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you were very very small, you were everso small, you were like – the tiniest creature, hopping about on one leg
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1950205
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He tells me that only a few things had happened in his life but some of them he had felt deeply.
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19501514
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The rain pelted down, it got dark, and they couldn't see a thing. The wind roared like a thousand locomotives.
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1949134
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tell me about the time you lived in Carolina, and what my smile does
for you.
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194933
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A joust. A tournament. A playing field. ¶ Hmm . . .
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194952
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The courtroom smelled a lot like mold and it was hot as you could imagine. I sweated through my shirt and wondered if he wasn’t dying under his robe. He looked down at me from his bench and I just knew he was going to call me a commie and sentence me to l
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194910
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I don't really know, though. I've been locked in a beer cave for the last ten years of my life. I was just let out by some frat boys who were looking for Natty Light.
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194800
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—with spinster goddesses in the middle of things / circling looms.
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194810
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It wasn't until about 2:30 that my hairpiece began mauling small children.
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194821
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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.
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194800
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In desperation, the city council imported a shaman to exorcise whatever demons had possessed the house.
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194800
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...It's my advice that this Fourth of July the Office of Homeland Security post the following instructions on your web site www.Ready.gov — people should act like my dog Lucy and just stay inside under the bed and tremble...
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1948104
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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...
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194811
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Right away, like toadstools, there were crackpot theories. The first: that kids out on the lake dock, against fire department warnings...
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1947103
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“I’ll be damned,” he said. “I never knew where that was.”
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194776
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2. humility You know what silly does? Silly guarantees that you will enjoy the moment as the moment for the moment. Clowns make fun of silly. Isn't that ironic? They are in essence the opposite of their own image. That's why so many people see them as evil--because you…
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194742
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I know I know how many times you want me to tell you I’m sorry, okay?
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194730
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They sprinkled me in the holes of Auburn Maine. They covered me in grain, and salmon colored sand. My shell had swirls of chartreuse, and chocolate painted on it. I was made from glass and Gods left eye. Picked and sorted through, we all landed into a tiny paper bag…
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1947117
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when the surface of a photograph gets like this that it has gone blind
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194785
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"There is something in the air. It makes people sick, makes them want to die. They
cannot inhale too deeply for fear that it will turn them mad."
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194754
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It was Brad, for short; or so he would say. But really his name was Bradford, and he was a writer. He had almost always lived in New York. He was only half-white. His mother had run away with a black man in the sixties. Her father had told her to never come back to…
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194712
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