1798 9 8
|
“No one ever notices everything: but sometimes it happens, when no one is noticing everything, everyone misses the same thing in the same moment . . ."
|
179864
|
What led to the current situation was that about a year ago the conceptual artist had been shocked to read in a small item in a newspaper that a conceptual artist in China had also grown an ear on his forearm and this discovery had led the conceptual artist to make a …
|
1798137
|
Eons later, Bobo evolves into Shakespeare. Bonus feature: wings.
|
179700
|
stoplight - (haiku love series - #2)
eyes lock in a gaze
glimpses of my future spark
then you walk away
|
17974024
|
What used to be a scene has broken into fragments and blips of her on a screen I can’t control or manipulate.
|
179785
|
|
179781
|
She had a strange name which I am ashamed/
To have forgotten, seven times, maybe nine,/
Her lips transgressors, wet with sourapple ...
|
179754
|
It is late at night and you lean / over me to make sure your alarm is set.
|
1797147
|
I knew it was just a matter of time...
|
179743
|
The mouth on my breasts is hungry, searching, needing...
|
179789
|
I worry about my garden. I know there are larger concerns lurking in the stale shadows than my limp little flowers, things more pressing to the meeting of minds than thick lush green leaves might bring, but this is my own greenish way of …
|
1797104
|
He got up to the pulpit and said that he thought he might have made a mistake. I will never forget the desperate look on his face. He recalled being at his Ivy League school and wondering just what he was interested in upon his graduation and what would b
|
179700
|
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
|
179722
|
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..
|
179777
|
maybe eventually time / will erase our time together
|
179753
|
We have read your book, but regret to inform you that it is insufficient. This is not to say that you as a person are insufficient, simply that your writing is. When you asked us what percentage of manuscripts we found sufficient, we told you, “Less tha
|
179710
|
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
|
1796105
|
That Dagwood is not a real person but a story told in dots. That Blondie is a male fantasy and will one day find her Nora Helmer.
|
1796199
|
the constant inner jabber
|
1796159
|
“Phennias Jessup is his name. That’s his death’s head scroll, an hourglass, bats, spirals and angel’s wings on either side of the top part of the stone. "
|
1796136
|
Occasionally, I look down and spit.
Not caring that it originates from
the deepest hole in my lungs,
|
179610
|
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.
|
179610
|
He was the tall, whippy type. Dangerous.
|
1796148
|
you may meet the man of your dreams.
|
179694
|
“Why do I have to sign these cards? You haven't written your dreaded holiday letter yet.” “I told you not to complain or you'd be the one writing it. And addressing the envelopes. Then you can stamp them and take them to the Post Office!” …
|
1796100
|
"What say we adjourn to the bedroom and I give you a little demonstration of sexual acrobatics?”
|
17961212
|
you were very very small, you were everso small, you were like – the tiniest creature, hopping about on one leg
|
179542
|
The little Hannibal Lectors had run like bandits away from the flames and had latched on to their equipment and gear. They screamed as the bugs crawled all over them. When they got back to the station they had to quarantine all their stuff so the bugs w
|
179532
|
The smell of candy and burn... /A patriotic prose poem for the fourth of July.
|
179510
|
I knew her face but not her hair, at least not the right way up.
|
