1787 4 4
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The signal sets the faint young boys into motion
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178794
|
A jollier zombie you shall never find. You must trust me on this!
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178721
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Unlike me, Gino could walk up to a group of unattached women, say something sensitive and thoughtful like “Hey, hey, hey!”–and suddenly the fun would begin.
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178720
|
Alysia stretched her left hand out at Kurai, and the electricity connected with her fingertips like beacon.
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178799
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For another man she raced through infinite wounds and fists in a monsoon forest. Hands tied to her lover’s for a dance, a roulette of paper cranes exploding across the sky. Cascaded into the sea of black eyelashes.
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1787188
|
Overnight, I felt drunk, as if headed for hangover, but I hadn't drunk enough to cause it. What caused it? Superstitions dialed in sleep.
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178782
|
Three months had passed since the grease fire melted Jasmine's face.I sat beside her on the hospital bed and held her clamy hand as she trembled. "No more stir-fry," I joked. The doctor and nurse faked a chuckle. Jasmine might have, but the bandages muffled…
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178720
|
...will it be as overwhelmingly dull and tedious as de Sade?
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178797
|
powerless against the memory of the earth-bank and the river flows, through a susurrus field of a million quills
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17861713
|
She lies on her stomach by the side of the pool staring into her towel. On her back, I can make out a pastel isthmus, surgery's pink art or charlatan's scab, I can't tell which. She is beautiful as rare roast beef is beautiful.
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178682
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“What are you doing after this?” I asked, faking a self confidence I didn’t truly posses at fifteen. I didn’t seem to realize that I wasn’t old enough for any of the clubs they’d go to. I’d heard that fans sometimes followed the band to an after-party.
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178621
|
"Look, Ted, I'm on a timer. It's really hell here, you can't imagine. And I have a chance to get paroled early, if you do me a solid."
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17861914
|
His work was done. For sixty years, beginning soon after his seventeenth birthday, he had listened to the gods- good, bad, somewhere in between-
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1786149
|
|
178652
|
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178600
|
No one could understand. No one wanted to understand. They were all gripped with horror, fear flowing through every nerve in their body. Could it be a serial killer? Could it be an animal ? Could it be an accident? Or was this a prank gone bad ?
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178621
|
People crawling up out of the chimney, then onto the roof, then sliding down it and off over the edge disappearing from view.
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1786108
|
Do you think that’s a good idea, you said. Sure, I said, as the men coiled up the anaconda and put it in a second truck that had arrived. You don’t think anyone will wonder what our motives are?
|
178683
|
I want her life to pass in a world without meridian
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178597
|
Dark, green grass covered the pasture like millions of tiny fingers swaying in the heat.
|
178510
|
I'm sitting in a burned out skeletal frame of an old Cadillac on the side of Route 66 just outside of Kansas. Back home in New York State my sister is explaining to my mother that Jack Kerouac convinced me to run away even though he's been dead for years. They're…
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178552
|
Didn't he have like a frog
No lips so speak of, and the weathered lizard
Look of the frequently face-lifted?
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1785198
|
Evening was drawing nigh and Mosby's horse had tired from the daylong ride.
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178520
|
Joe thought of Evelyn. Walt of Charley. Annabelle dreamt of Paolo in an autumn in Cordoba. Everyone who stayed at Mrs Jackanoe’s guest house in Room 17 and found the note also found some long forgotten feelings.
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178554
|
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178500
|
said you loved me
told some jokes
aren’t you dying?
|
178500
|
We are the images, the tableau vivant, the one-person shows, the scenes from scattered plays. We wait for the Caretaker who prompts us to play and replay one by one on her rounds.
|
178513
|
"Carl, do you think we can fit all of our furniture into that red house?" Jeanne asks. She wonders how easily you could burn a red house down, if a claw foot tub will melt or be left standing in a field of black grass. He reaches for her hair, the dizzy smell…
|
178500
|
Frey wanted to see heaven without having to die. He had returned from the sea after being gone for three weeks, ranting wildly about a giant ship he had seen in the distance one afternoon.
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17851514
|
I wrote this during a poetry workshop at the Atlantic Center for the Arts with Carolyn Forché. January, 2015. So much more has happened since that stunning week.
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