1854 5 2
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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
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185420
|
Just thinking aloud, really. And by aloud, I mean typing for someone to read haha.
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185400
|
The unfanged obscene had finally caught him in the night.
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185460
|
Tonight, Bukowski and I drink together.
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18541312
|
the world slips under the waves
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185461
|
Do you think we die when we age?Or when a car runs over our hearts?We die slowly, minute by minute, every secondBy the time you read this, you've died a little
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18541512
|
(I'd appreciate some feedback on this very weird story.) A Frosted Mini Wheat walks in to a bar...
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185464
|
When I was 17, they said in an e-mail that you would get too drunk to function and that you would abuse them, verbally, and do way more than embarrass them in public. They said you'd yell at them and hit their mom for any reason. They put a restraining order on you.…
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1853127
|
The calls come in a few times a week. When the unknown someone calls Safety Now, Radon Testing and Elimination Headquarters, Mrs. R. wonders who it is that just sits silently on the other end of the line. She wants to say, "Look, if you're a bill colle
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185322
|
Hi, I'm Harmony Korine. I esteem douchebags.
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1853136
|
Attached in the center were the petals of a small flower pressed in wax paper. Uncreased, she read it out loud
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185363
|
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…
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1853115
|
Marge came home with a Doors CD.
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185300
|
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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18531210
|
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18522711
|
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185284
|
Bare feet on hardwood floor
Twists into circles
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1852124
|
I look for the boy we met inside the club, the one who claimed he loved playing with matches, setting fire to churches. I spot him smoking a cigarette, standing so cool against the side of the club, like he might be the nephew of some Viking guitarist hun
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185220
|
I remember being sent a picture once from one of my old roommates, Louise, back in Chicago where I came from. The photo was taken when she’d come out for a visit to California. In the picture I am sitting on the front stairs of my house in the Rockridge
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18522313
|
I am abandoned to the mundane/
calculations of a small mind/
trapped by small considerations
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185200
|
If you want job security on this planet, you'd better study art.
|
185200
|
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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185272
|
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.
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185111
|
I am in the hallway, but I don’t sense it. That is to say: I don’t feel my body. I am like a phantom, a limbless entity floating, flailing.
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185135
|
I was sitting on the steps in the entryway to our apartment building taking off my running shoes when I spotted a paperclip on the floor. I assumed it had fallen from the mail that my wife had just taken from our mailbox. Once my shoes were removed, I went down to pick…
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185110
|
"I always disliked such display of religious fervor. I dislike religious fervor. Period."
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185122
|
Pauleen tries to split open her legs because she doesn’t understand how to love someone without them.
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185186
|
We are prisoners of anticipation.
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185144
|
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
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1851128
|
Are they too old for life's little pleasures? The answer comes as I pass them on the canyon road one morning.
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