1721 0 0
|
7
We sat in Darrell's truck in the deserted silent world of the down-trodden industrial area of West Berkeley, where no one in his right mind went at five in the morning. "Put the gun away, Darrell," I said. "I mean it."
"I can't help but keep
|
172142
|
when the sun goes down alone
vice is forgotten in the night wind
your lover's voice
on the phone
held fast in the balance
of gravity and momentum
overcoming inanimate objects
and the unknown
|
172110
|
The mystery is in the barmaid's impersonal stare
It's all there. Recognizable the bottles of Bass Ale
and Crème de Menthe. Glazed oranges piled in a bowl
Two roses in a small clear glass of water
A wide gold bracelet on her arm, halfway
up from
|
1720104
|
Across from the Hell Hole
the Cage on Sixth pulses,
sweats, swooshes, hot concussion as players
play for keeps.
|
1720219
|
Qaddafi's murder brought an old memory I had forgotten about.
|
172046
|
Two cars smashed together, the sky started to look like a foot infected with gout...
|
172032
|
Knocked off around noon, drank some retsina, checked Olympics results. Can’t find Medea’s motivation. Why would she kill her kids?
|
1720199
|
the constant inner jabber
|
1720106
|
|
172010
|
I knew her face but not her hair, at least not the right way up.
|
172010
|
My best friend Khaled’s idea was, he’d set up a pool tournament. Nine-ball. Each church would send a player, and whichever church won, he’d join. Any church that wouldn’t shoot pool, he wouldn’t want to join.
|
172043
|
The mouth on my breasts is hungry, searching, needing...
|
17201511
|
They say, we have hangnails.
I say, I have a bruised leg.
|
172065
|
weep or go stark mad your amanuensic fool will bury your words
|
17202312
|
Good buddy Jesus./
Life coach Jesus. Enthusiastic//
and optimistic Jesus, no cross/
or crown of thorns in sight.
|
172010
|
At that point he would leave and listen to the scientists as they debate as to why the moon has organs and why they are covered in a thick fat.
|
17191412
|
I have nothing in me but a raw loneliness right now. It's as if someone whirl-winded me out of the sky into the middle of the ocean in the middle of the red faced night. My fate seems immobile, sealed, doomed to a rocking nothingness, like…
|
171983
|
I was making good bread as a New York studio musician and jingle writer, anonymous back-room jobs.
|
1719124
|
There was a children’s lit theme running through the party. Aside from Annemarie’s costume, there was a Harry Potter, a Pinocchio, and a Grinch.
|
1719136
|
4. Hers blocking driveway, his diagonal in grass
|
17191412
|
Behind them all, in the background, a tray of vodka tonics waits on a glass table, the limes losing color as they drown.
|
1719136
|
The three were up early to await the deer with rifles, ammunition, and coffee.
|
17191412
|
I sought to feel something. I hunted my mortality. I craved that rush of life pulsating through my veins.
|
171862
|
She was in love with a boy whose eyes were so brown that she sat stopped in the restaurant at the anniversary dinner with the spoon in her slow chocolate fondant. Out of the corner of her eye, around the back of her head, under the table knees knocking
|
171883
|
I walked on hot coals. She got ahead of me. (228 words)
|
171842
|
"I was hit by an Amtrak train and dragged a hundred feet, and I'm going to die from smoking cigarettes."
|
171861
|
Do you think we die when we age?Or when a car runs over our hearts?We die slowly, minute by minute, every secondBy the time you read this, you've died a little
|
171811
|
After lunch it's vocal coaching: shrieking, screaming, crying Oh-my-God!-Oh-my-God!-Oh-my-God!, panting and face fanning. Next it's ‘situational training', where we pretend to be audience members on real talk shows and practice everything we've learned th
|
171800
|
“You have run for your life, Astylos, and won. All Hellenes share in your victory.” The crowd bellowed and thundered as an attendant tied purple ribbons around the winner’s forehead, arms and legs. These would mark him as a victor for the remaining days o
|
171822
|
In principle, Sergeant Brock Lumley resisted superstition, but if you were to stop him on any given day he was patrolling Baghdad streets with his rifle squad and ask him to open the front left ammo pouch on his flak vest, he’d get this look on his face..
|
