1840 9 7
|
master carvers do not reduce with carving.
|
184021
|
(For Dancer and Guitar) …
|
184022
|
Jacob could tell it was a man he had just walked past, a broken man with an olive green Vietnam era military jacket, a man who had probably served his country as honorably as anyone chosen at lottery and forced to kill for a subsistence wage…
|
18401515
|
I dreamt I was spinning down the coast in a convertible. It was warm, and the top was down.
|
1840147
|
a bird who gives messages
|
184094
|
“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!” …
|
184085
|
|
18401412
|
I sought to feel something. I hunted my mortality. I craved that rush of life pulsating through my veins.
|
1840118
|
In the morning, I lay on my side and ran a finger down the girl’s back, lightly tracing her spine. I remarked on the whiteness of her skin.
|
183910
|
This is about a mescaline trip that went wrong. It happened back in the '60s and I know, the '60s have been done quite to death and nobody ever gets the trip right but--you'll like this one. Joey and…
|
18391211
|
I peed on Rick’s toothbrush. I nearly repented and cleansed it with hydrogen peroxide in the middle of the night. But I didn’t.
|
183973
|
Looking at his pale and pimpled flesh, he was repulsed by his flaccid and lifeless member. The accompanying bits, dangled about far from his frame as the summer heat drew them away from his sweaty and unwashed body.
|
183920
|
This is an older story that was inspired by research on naming conventions while trying to find record of my own ancestors in the Ukraine. I did not find them. Instead I was inspired to write this.
|
183998
|
If you get crushed in New York City
that's your own problem.
|
183911
|
Before the bills, before the fighting, before the need to blame something, there was a moment blown empty in the span of one doctor’s breath, a moment where bar nights and weekend benders had no meaning, a moment where the future was as blank as the bac
|
183964
|
"When we say something is good, beautiful, pious, or brave, what idea or image do we hold in our mind?"
|
183932
|
I want to talk like Rose Tyler, and be whisked away by the strapping Docor, preferably in David Tennant form.
|
1839124
|
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.
|
183941
|
The DC-9 bounced in the turbulence over the north Pacific waking the dozing Ben Clarone.
|
183800
|
Track One Johnny Burkemeister, lead vocals and flutist of the band Albatross Antics, sits on his bed thinking in silence. His elbow rests on his knee, and his palm on his forehead with his fingers running through his dirty-blonde hair. He is staring at a copy of Paste…
|
183863
|
She shoved a small bottle under her aprons and came towards me, darkening the passageway from “Ancestor” by Thomas Kinsella The night I heard the Banshee she passed away. In my screaming fear dada and mama woke. …
|
183800
|
I ought to see, in Mr. Smith's dilated pupils, the projection of his last reverie.
|
18381816
|
I can’t take my eyes off a tall blonde with green eyes. I catch her eye.
|
183800
|
When I finally went back to school in the fourth grade, after coming down with polio, my classmates were very welcoming, though I couldn't go outside and run around like them yet at recess or lunch time. That would come, just not right away. But it was th
|
183810
|
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.
|
183886
|
The old man behind the counter recognizes fear and anxiety in the boy's face, and sees the brown paper bag clenched in his other white-knuckled hand.
|
1838115
|
What did they even invent
clothing for? I asked.
|
183823
|
But they all know the parking prayer...
|
1838178
|
"Your mother does sailors," the parrot screeched.
|
1838149
|
I never thought I’d miss the sound of church bells, reminding me of my sudden apostasy,
faintly ringing over the rumpus where even the birds can’t get a word in edgeways.
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