1784 9 7
|
The drip of rank meat, his muzzle, his back-barbed tongue: red.
|
178400
|
A Nonfiction Behind the Scenes look at how the Arcana Magi Universe came to existence.
|
17841612
|
The P-36 used for gunnery exercises was twitchy and stubborn...
|
178343
|
take back all the falderal
and friggin' fiddle dee dee
take back the mad murmuring
of ten minutes ago
|
178320
|
Fergus Winston, a former accountant from New York, finds himself mixed up in the middle of a trafficking operation in small town Iowa.
|
178360
|
Tonight, Bukowski and I drink together.
|
178365
|
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.…
|
178321
|
How old is he anyway? 35? Maybe 40? Old—but in a good and sophisticated way. Everyone says he’s good-natured and generous, Mr. John-just-like-a-movie-star-Wagner.
|
1783108
|
To dance along the wrack line...
|
1783106
|
I saw/
star shine in/
my silver pail
|
178389
|
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…
|
17831510
|
I tell my woman friend the new man's penis is too large. I tell her once. She asks me later whether I asked about it at the doctor's—large cock, she calls it, and I say I told the doctor my boyfriend's in a wheelchair.
|
178300
|
Oryn knelt down beside Alysia and grabbed her white and light blue hair. She pulled it back, and tried to get an emotional response. Their eyes locked in place. Sparks of anger clashing between their faces.
|
178344
|
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
|
1783107
|
Behind the wainscoting, the mice scratch, struggling to keep warm.
|
178242
|
and to adorn my hair I chose every kind of light
|
178211
|
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.
|
178200
|
"What the hell does profligate mean?!" He shouted.
|
178264
|
Then he told us tales of skulls and planks, galleons and parrots, silver and gold on crystal Jamaican seas under deep ruby skies.
|
178264
|
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
|
17822914
|
You say boxer briefs, I say pillbox hats
|
178267
|
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…
|
178298
|
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…
|
178272
|
Of course the man went tumbling, and though he fell not far, a falling with a body full of meats and sweet breads makes the landing something awful-not so bad that Desperate got it-only so the leg puffed like a blue, rain swollen, earth-bound cloud.
|
178100
|
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.
|
178133
|
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
|
178142
|
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 …
|
178111
|
Perhaps a blue person is more alive underneath than a red. Red is eye-catching and flashy, but blue is substantial, secretive. Of course, blood is red, and there’s nothing more substantial than blood, but we’re on blue at the moment, and the thought
|
178100
|
If you want job security on this planet, you'd better study art.
|
1781194
|
We wore cowboy hats and jeans in the pictures. They both came off once his camera disappeared.
|
