1950 1 0
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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.
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1950 11 9
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What if I never feel like a real artist? What does it even mean to be a "real" artist? What if nobody ever cares about what I make?
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1950 4 1
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The DC-9 bounced in the turbulence over the north Pacific waking the dozing Ben Clarone.
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1949 3 3
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A joust. A tournament. A playing field. ¶ Hmm . . .
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1949 10 5
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It’s a song you knew once, begin to remember now: You’ve had this dream before.
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1949 0 0
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The girl who was me stands in a sandbox with upraised arms, honey hair tied with olive yarn in two ponytails. She says nothing, but wants me to pick her up.
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1949 18 19
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Where we live, at the edge of the foothills at the east edge of town, fire is always a worry during the summer, and this has been an exceptionally dry year.
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1949 7 4
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1949 8 6
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you hear the knell of kindness
long before its cathedral voices -- a recessional --
barters better times.
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1949 1 1
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The tiles begin inching toward him as soon as he moves. You've seen filings on glass. He's the magnet on the underside.
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1949 0 0
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1949 12 10
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Poor kid. She didn't mean to leave my business card on her kitchen counter next to the telephone. It was a mistake.
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1949 4 2
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She catches my head in a leg scissors and says for me to say Ninja Uncle. Instead, I bite into her flesh that only remotely tastes like a soft salt pretzel.
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1949 10 9
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"Lately I've been thinking a baby's the only way I might be able to hang on to you."
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1949 14 12
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Behind them all, in the background, a tray of vodka tonics waits on a glass table, the limes losing color as they drown.
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1949 1 1
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{Chapter iv of Undermind} "What do you think of the light in our city at night?" It spreads out in every direction, following the hills and valleys of the city, visible into the far distance from the Penthouse party room on the 44th floor. "Gorgeous!…
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1949 4 1
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fated and cruel, a person I don't love
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1949 12 4
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It rises rigid and plumb from its heavy base, the severity of line yielding to grace only at the throat where it crests into a subtly constrictive pinch.
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1949 2 0
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The morning sun rose up over the flat prairie, and the powdery snow crunched as you walked on it, and the air was so crisp it hurt as you took a breath. That is good, I thought. That is how you knew you were alive, and I was truly very alive, and there was not much to do so…
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1949 4 5
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When the city froze and the darkness began to arrive ahead of rush hour, my pills worked; Butterfly Hu’s did not. In a double blind trial, you can’t know who gets the miracle, and who gets the sugar.
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1948 1 0
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As Gino exited the supermarket, plastics bags in tow, he began doing curls with his right arm. He’d been doing this for years, reasoning that he might as well get some exercise during the walk home.
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1948 4 2
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To Charles Bukowski "I haven't shat or pissed in seven years," she tells him, negotiating each word around the Marlboro. Because he doesn't know what else to say, Isaiah asks, "Haven't you seen a …
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1948 4 4
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Why you keep a razor blade in your stocking?
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1948 6 4
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"When we say something is good, beautiful, pious, or brave, what idea or image do we hold in our mind?"
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1948 6 4
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Some people might find it strange and a bit obsessive to mow their lawn every day, but to Shiram it was an irreplaceable part of his daily existence.
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1948 7 3
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We spend life, or much of it rather, chasing epiphanies promised to us by hip prophets and free spirits.
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1948 6 5
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I know she's a dog person, as she owns one.
“No, my asshole ex-boyfriend wanted one and then he left me with it.” she admits, then adds,
“I don't even like dogs. All dogs are needy.”
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1948 15 10
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On the birthday before he started school, he received a pencil case from his paternal grandparents. The violet, oblong pouch contained a pencil and a pencil sharpener in the same color. He didn't remember what had happened with the pencil or the sharpener, but he had…
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1948 5 3
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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
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1947 9 7
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Dark, green grass covered the pasture like millions of tiny fingers swaying in the heat.
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