1847 5 4
|
Beneath the crosshatch gazes of the satellites and above the maze of sound, seahorse clouds exhale a glaucoma haze before they are absorbed into surveillance footage
|
184784
|
Bare feet on hardwood floor
Twists into circles
|
184700
|
"Umm... T-shirt, sweats. You know, typical sleepwear for me. I had been in these jeans for the video shoot, but they had to go."
"J-jeans, huh?" Lucas started to falter.
|
184622
|
Pauleen tries to split open her legs because she doesn’t understand how to love someone without them.
|
184601
|
A.K.AAmputated narratives of the not yet come emancipatory orderModesty would be forestalled (left aside) in the case of the title "The Mess...."But who can shoulder the visceral (cough) burden of what is to come?" - The God of Trifling Grammatical…
|
1846136
|
Attached in the center were the petals of a small flower pressed in wax paper. Uncreased, she read it out loud
|
18462313
|
I am abandoned to the mundane/
calculations of a small mind/
trapped by small considerations
|
184664
|
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.…
|
184600
|
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.
|
18461210
|
|
184672
|
Can't cope.
Got no hope.
Got no dope.
Call the Pope.
Get the rope.
|
184578
|
I wake up with the taste of mud in my mouth. Ashy, sulfurous, charred, with traces of rotten shellfish.
|
1845134
|
Sun strikingGolden snow glistens Across empty fieldsLong winter shadowsTrees like fingers The morning in their grasp
|
1845119
|
Your precious feet were there once, pressed against the familiar floorboards, where your poems suddenly appeared to you, flashing like lightning. I wonder which window they came in? Here's a thought: you were like that window. You caught…
|
184560
|
Tonight, Bukowski and I drink together.
|
184565
|
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.…
|
184561
|
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
|
1845128
|
Are they too old for life's little pleasures? The answer comes as I pass them on the canyon road one morning.
|
184510
|
"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?"
|
18442711
|
|
184420
|
A spark is a gouged word: stewed to annihilate, scrambled, botched in a pot to dry. Lead us to the quiver, let us tremble. Noon, we paw nails under rugs, run fingertips over books, rip cupboards from hinges and spiral open the machine, for the creature is near the roof or…
|
18441312
|
the world slips under the waves
|
18441512
|
(I'd appreciate some feedback on this very weird story.) A Frosted Mini Wheat walks in to a bar...
|
1844115
|
Marge came home with a Doors CD.
|
184453
|
I opened my switchblade mouth and sliced
through the scab of silence.
|
184467
|
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…
|
184472
|
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.
|
184363
|
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…
|
184355
|
If there is an airport, it is one of dreams. If there is a dream, it is one of shadows. If there are shadows, there is not much more but the thoughts of a short man meeting a short woman on a runway of forbidden desires, in a foreign city belonging to n
|
184300
|
If you want job security on this planet, you'd better study art.
|
