1699 13 9
|
|
169933
|
“Turn the fucking thing off!” I yelled above the noise. “It’s fucking New Year’s morning!”
|
169931
|
I took it in my hands and used it on my lips. The taste was just hers: her touch, her smell, her breath in the winter nights. She was in this. Everything we had was in this tube.
|
1699115
|
Marge came home with a Doors CD.
|
169900
|
If you want job security on this planet, you'd better study art.
|
16992119
|
The younger woman asked Scott if he loved Jesus.
|
16991715
|
I loved to visit my grandparents when I was a kid.
|
169811
|
“I scheduled some time today to talk to you about something…something important. Since you’re going on with your life, leaving everything you’ve known so far, you’re going to need some information about sex.”
|
16981612
|
So I went to see the wrinkled
and rumpled poet, who insisted
on reading from memory, stumbling
through his sheaf of poems.
|
16982616
|
Poets are more like Jesus,/
suffering the cross
|
16981410
|
are my only real friends. They don't seem to mind my shuffling down the dirty sidewalks without acknowledging their mere scraggly presences like friendly tombstones. They are growing their hair out again. I've noticed that much. We've got a…
|
1698199
|
Liz didn’t steal his heart / she embezzled it
|
1698193
|
The snake was fang-less and so had to choke her, making the kill bloodless and drawn out, just the way she liked it.
|
1698107
|
Behind the wainscoting, the mice scratch, struggling to keep warm.
|
169850
|
So back to Berkeley we went, and started our own commune in a huge rented house on Derby Street where we could tear the fences down in all the neighborhood backyards. We created what we called “The Meadow.”
|
16982913
|
Cinnamon and smoke
infuse the days that shorten,
chill, accelerate.
|
169888
|
He's not something you'll want, waiting for you, inside your living room's ear. Go and see your family. Breathe the broad daylight whenever you can. I got lost in some free form dog caves. That's all. That's no path to aspire to …
|
169733
|
Things are a little out of hand. Information fills room after room after room. I have no bloody idea where I am. I have your photo, but the navigational coordinates are difficult to interpret. Where the hell are you, anyway? I don't like mazes — too much like…
|
169765
|
Last night I spoke to the universeon your behalf. I don't know if anyone understood my plea, but I did it, I knew what I meant to say out loud, heard myself implore the great cosmic stuffing we're all fluffed out of to pleasejust give you a…
|
169785
|
And because the film is French, the camera pauses / long moments at the curve of her neck, it watches/ her finger vermilion tulips in a vase. Her new lover,/ a wisp of a man, looks good in leather./ The camera pans quickly across beige suede,/ rests long
|
169744
|
The signal sets the faint young boys into motion
|
169763
|
She breezes through the door, cellphone to ear, with the confidence of the affluent. Can you look at my left rear tire, the dashboard indicator says it's low. Back to her phone, Oh, Marsha, hi, how are you, you gorgeous WOMAN, you!? Hey, I'm on my way to…
|
169700
|
Vito stood before the mirror combing his dark, freshly-cut hair. He trimmed his thick mustache, then buttoned his black vest. He liked its tight fit against his muscular torso. He had difficulty fastening the top button of his white shirt, the collar tigh
|
16971814
|
We are infused with fear and dread/
of the world we won’t engage/
except through flat screens and remotes,
|
16971410
|
Sid, the owner of the red convertible, always slept with his twin Lhasa Apsos, Helpless and Hopeless. He was an early riser and took his “girls”, as he called them, out for a brief walk, yes, and also he was up early to take his morning penicillin because he…
|
1697105
|
I tell my doc I’m special, 1 in 1,000,000 special: unhitched, pushing 44, and knocked up. "Call Guinness," I joke, and fake jab his right arm. He puts his two hands over mine, smiles gently, like a father.
|
169652
|
The young girl has given up, and lies sprawled out
upon the yellow cover on the bed, with her blue sarong
wrapped loosely around her body. One arm lay
back up above her head, where it was thrown
during the exertion of birth. Her yellow halo
surr
|
169696
|
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.
|
1696128
|
|
1696108
|
To dance along the wrack line...
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