1777 2 1
|
It wasn't that I couldn’t imagine it. Rather, I could almost conjure the choreography to mind. One of his hands would graze at the side of my face. One finger would extend and stroke me, from my temples to my chin. He would press my body against something
|
1777 4 5
|
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.
|
1776 1 0
|
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…
|
1776 10 6
|
Now that I no longer sleep to see you,
propelled by this motion that is not magic
|
1776 7 7
|
My face turns to promise more, but my insides are browning.
|
1776 0 0
|
And it whispered like any wood. And the blade moaned when he got too deep and tried to cut too much. And as the dead parts of him came off, in tendrils and dust, the man's chest began to move, like the hands around his heart had let go.
|
1776 4 2
|
There was something in the pressure and the urgency that made her smile, and then laugh. It was like carrying heavy furniture while someone made a joke--the effectiveness of the joke seemed directly proportional to the weight of the furniture. What was it
|
1776 8 6
|
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.
|
1776 7 4
|
Sagittarius (Nov.22 – Dec. 21)
Listen to the voices
inside your head.
They speak to you
for a reason.
Now is not the time for debate.
|
1776 3 3
|
My love for him like wax wings/
so long they stretched eternal—
beating in the sky, grazing peaks,
|
1776 12 9
|
My man wears chartreuse shoes.!
He wears chartreuse shoes like a new king
right there on Main St.!
|
1776 18 12
|
|
1775 6 3
|
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. …
|
1775 11 9
|
Librarians are hiding something. What is it?
|
1775 15 14
|
You need buttered broths and to
copy old writings by hand by
very poor light.
|
1775 2 0
|
Just thinking aloud, really. And by aloud, I mean typing for someone to read haha.
|
1775 11 8
|
But it all works out. I guess. Truth is something I'm sure I've never seen before, but the more time goes on, the Less I'm inclined to believe in it. Still I don't want To be one of those giving the finger to God And begging for a showdown with an…
|
1775 14 8
|
She walks ahead, dropping matches as she goes. Grassland is consumed by flames and when I arrive all is wasted.
|
1775 8 6
|
|
1775 3 2
|
He kept the lawn mowed at the perfect height. He mowed it twice a week to one inch. Some weeks he mowed it a third time for good measure.
|
1775 10 5
|
Half way through our cigarettes she told me her name was Charlotte.
|
1775 11 9
|
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?
|
1775 3 1
|
It’s me walking in on you shooting up in the diner’s cesspool of a
shitter, and you trying to conceal the evidence while you’re telling
me it’s straight up your first time.
|
1774 7 6
|
I'm a librarian. A reader. I identify as a four-eyed person. I've always worn glasses. I got my first pair in the second grade. It was a miracle! The blurry world I'd inhabited all my life suddenly came into focus. I could see the blackboard! I could read street signs! I…
|
1774 9 6
|
He has no plan, he needs a plan, he has no plan, he needs a plan -- the two thoughts bounce around inside his skull like racquet balls.
|
1774 10 7
|
turn my Dorothy Hamill into a golden shadow
|
1774 0 0
|
When I think about love, I actually think about life. And when I think about that, I wonder if we’re really who we used to be.
|
1774 3 2
|
Woman With Water Bottles has taken up a little spot in the back of my brain, her hair tickling her eyes in the breeze.
|
1774 7 6
|
The World's Worst Mime stood there next to the iron carousel, portraying something, and the crowd understood none of it, except that whatever thing he was trying to portray was not being portrayed well at all.
|
1774 4 2
|
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.
|