1886 5 5
|
His people eat soggy casseroles and smile with tight lips.
|
188560
|
Tonight, Bukowski and I drink together.
|
188520
|
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…
|
18851611
|
“If 'neighbor' applies to women who covet—'deliriously desire'—husbands from Angers, then one day he'll be your husband's neighbor," I say.
|
1885206
|
She lifts her head, nose heavenward. There’s a wet spot on my dress from our lovemaking, its aroma as heady as Claudine’s bouillabaisse. I hope she smells it.
|
188540
|
“Hey,” I begin, a naughty smile breaking across my face before I can get to the punchline, “Want to drive around flipping off anyone with a Romney bumper sticker?”
Kaleb chuckles and beams at me. It seems everyone likes a good girl turned naughty.
|
188597
|
we wipe the blood of our progress
from our hands.
|
188584
|
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,…
|
188564
|
But who am I kidding. We aren’t in love. Being in love is for high schoolers or middle aged divorcees exploring their sexuality. Our love is real, sweaty, backwards, forwards, angry, trusting. We love as you only can after seeing someone at their best and
|
188585
|
|
188572
|
Can't cope.
Got no hope.
Got no dope.
Call the Pope.
Get the rope.
|
188455
|
How would you like to leave the land of your ancestors, the place of your birth, the home of your identity?
|
1884119
|
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…
|
188400
|
The unfanged obscene had finally caught him in the night.
|
188461
|
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
|
188451
|
Lothario Jones rounded the corner and skidded to a stop, trying to catch his breath. He was in a tight spot. The Journeymen were still hot on his trail. His Danger Pistol was out of radium pellets, and his once-full Bag of Tricks was now empty ...
|
188410
|
"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?"
|
188378
|
I wake up with the taste of mud in my mouth. Ashy, sulfurous, charred, with traces of rotten shellfish.
|
188365
|
So she started sneaking into people’s houses in the middle of the night. She’d just sit in the kitchen for an hour or so, and just feel the peace. Never took anything or got into anything. Just sat there silently.
|
188320
|
Just thinking aloud, really. And by aloud, I mean typing for someone to read haha.
|
18832412
|
Man waters Earth with his eyes.
|
188366
|
The man went into his backpack and pulled out his book of crossword puzzles. The deluxe edition with fifty percent more puzzles for free. It had been an impulse buy from the bookstore, cost him four…
|
18832616
|
Poets are more like Jesus,/
suffering the cross
|
188300
|
He came to us with wandering tales of wild things
Savage, biting, slashing, tearing
A violent voice boomed becoming of beasts
|
1883104
|
He got up to the pulpit and said that he thought he might have made a mistake. I will never forget the desperate look on his face. He recalled being at his Ivy League school and wondering just what he was interested in upon his graduation and what would b
|
188300
|
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 ?
|
188355
|
|
18831210
|
|
188378
|
of any cautionary tale is somewhere found rolling around in your own sweet voice for me. Your sound's still listing there inside my wobbly head. My head is too often in my open hands, grinning behind its face-mask like a parade on…
|
188200
|
No way was Robert actually surprised that hewas competitive with himself, but there was something way more concrete about this. Instead of hand wringing, there was someone, Bob, that he could punch.
|
