1790 10 8
|
To dance along the wrack line...
|
179089
|
was washing her hands and lookingin the mirror and hoping tosee someone who could tell herthe way home again. She wasn'tsure why she should want to go there except maybe to findthe missing piece that had alwayseluded her. The lonely genius puton her clothes but the…
|
179064
|
"When we say something is good, beautiful, pious, or brave, what idea or image do we hold in our mind?"
|
179064
|
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.
|
1789139
|
|
178933
|
She went up first, I followed, a respectful three paces behind. Now, I know what you’re thinking: I was perfectly placed to steal a quick, if innocent, glance, and she would never see. The house is a center hall colonial, and there are no mirrors on the s
|
178942
|
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 …
|
1789124
|
I was more annoyed at the scream, the icy air around us and our eventual destination–his parents, the club, small talk, all that drunken insignia.
|
178964
|
Then he told us tales of skulls and planks, galleons and parrots, silver and gold on crystal Jamaican seas under deep ruby skies.
|
178998
|
We know a poem isn't going to stop you From invading our town. It won't get you to Listen to our birds any more than to our Sunsets. That's not why we do it. We know A poem isn't going to break the blade of Your knife like an…
|
178860
|
Tonight, Bukowski and I drink together.
|
178800
|
"What the hell does profligate mean?!" He shouted.
|
178897
|
The drip of rank meat, his muzzle, his back-barbed tongue: red.
|
1788106
|
I saw/
star shine in/
my silver pail
|
178864
|
And as you try to read, he appears.
No, not in front of you, but somewhere
just behind your eyes. You hear the sound
at the end of an argument, just before
the kiss; you see a shirt fall to the ground
in late summer; you watch him read
as his mouth
|
178866
|
The man and the whore lay in bed together. It was a cold night and they were warmed by the heat beneath the…
|
178867
|
The wind is wet today I can't tell you where sky meets sea only that it matters I can't explain why. I've triedCan't see the horizonbut I know that we have drawn itfingers tracing far pastthe edge of blind infinitywhere we sang stars to sleepand pinned our…
|
178810
|
"So" he started, which troubled me enough to turn back around and make such focused eye contact that I did not even notice his glass was again full, "you wanted to talk?"
|
17872517
|
|
178700
|
The wind rushed by her and she heard the faint sound of barking. And then she knew why she was coming. And she ran.
|
178742
|
and to adorn my hair I chose every kind of light
|
178711
|
He laughed – pictures traveled across his mind of bodies and mouths and the sex and the liquor, he could taste the flesh and the alcohol right then, strong, immediate.
|
178700
|
He was arrested for a horrible crime. It took more than three weeks to identify the body. The newspapers were vague so as not to terrify anyone. He hung his head low as he pled guilty.
|
178700
|
A Nonfiction Behind the Scenes look at how the Arcana Magi Universe came to existence.
|
1787194
|
We wore cowboy hats and jeans in the pictures. They both came off once his camera disappeared.
|
178744
|
I am the Poet Laureate of my bedroom
I am the Poet Laureate of 6065 Chabot Road, Jokeland
I am the Poet Laureate of the Loser Café
I have wind in my shoes if not my hair
I am the Poet Laureate of Karmic Impulses
Of tabloids and gossip
I am
|
178622
|
My future husband is wondering why I'm "taking your crap"
when I'm excellent at standing up to his.
He's cooking dinner in the stylish two story home he owns
and wishing he had someone to share it with,
a blue eyed blonde, but only if she's me.
|
178600
|
"... Sometimes I think I'm so close to knowing what it's all about, to knowing myself, and then sometimes everything seems so hopeless, as if I haven't learned a thing."
|
178643
|
take back all the falderal
and friggin' fiddle dee dee
take back the mad murmuring
of ten minutes ago
|
178665
|
All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. All was confusion in the Lubrecht house. Baby Lubrecht had discovered that his favorite blankey, thought by him to have been lost, was in fact being used by his older sister, Lilly Lubrecht.…
|
