1823 9 7
|
we wipe the blood of our progress
from our hands.
|
182355
|
|
1823128
|
Are they too old for life's little pleasures? The answer comes as I pass them on the canyon road one morning.
|
1823115
|
He looked straight at her, not to challenge her, but to better gauge what it was she would throw at him. Her eyes always darted to the thing right before her red, swollen fingers snatched at it, like a thing possessed.
|
182383
|
I want her life to pass in a world without meridian
|
182372
|
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.
|
182255
|
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
|
182200
|
If you want job security on this planet, you'd better study art.
|
182221
|
Clare sits bolt upright in the hard plastic chair, warily tracking every passer-by. In her lap, Kim’s hair is damp with sweat, dark blonde curls melting against her flushed cheeks. Clare absently strokes the length, soothing both of them.
|
182211
|
Here is “Adrien Brody” through a Freudian lens: Calloway wanted to fuck her father. She flew to New York City to fuck a version of her father who has a name similar to an actor with an interesting nose and a lot of talent. Neither Calloway nor the actor n
|
182266
|
The man and the whore lay in bed together. It was a cold night and they were warmed by the heat beneath the…
|
182210
|
"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?"
|
182111
|
Fingers fan like birds’ wings
cradling the volume,
head hanging low
and lips moving silently...
|
182101
|
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…
|
1821136
|
4. Hers blocking driveway, his diagonal in grass
|
182054
|
The first engine arrived and a fireman heavy with gear stumbled from the side railing.
|
1820136
|
Attached in the center were the petals of a small flower pressed in wax paper. Uncreased, she read it out loud
|
182010
|
Amyra pressed her hands on the brick wall and rubbed it. She thought about hanging something on there, but she did not have the tools to make a hole. In fact, the thought of having a hole in the wall would be enough.
|
1820115
|
Marge came home with a Doors CD.
|
18202914
|
You say boxer briefs, I say pillbox hats
|
181921
|
But forever is only for dragons, and children need to be touched or they die.
|
181978
|
I wake up with the taste of mud in my mouth. Ashy, sulfurous, charred, with traces of rotten shellfish.
|
181922
|
mr cummings sounded too formal for a man who didn’t use capital letters. As she climbed the four flights of stairs to the flat, she sang to herself, “I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart).”
|
18191712
|
When asked to turn over the Church's riches / he brought before the Roman prefect the poor, blind, ragged and infirm.
|
18192616
|
Poets are more like Jesus,/
suffering the cross
|
18191611
|
“If 'neighbor' applies to women who covet—'deliriously desire'—husbands from Angers, then one day he'll be your husband's neighbor," I say.
|
18192112
|
"the rum tasted of hibiscus blossoms"
|
181984
|
He was ready for the rub. Tense. She could always tell. The legs, the shuffles. He had to be frantic before he would come to her, his own wife. Vanity, fright. She could read him like a book open on the table, turn his pages the way a fish flakes. "It's comfort night,…
|
1819133
|
As American as hotdogs and apple pie...
|
181953
|
I opened my switchblade mouth and sliced
through the scab of silence.
|
