1774 5 4
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Their love was doomed at the onset, yet they engaged in it anyway, heedless of the numerous error messages and critical runtime failures. Abort, Retry, Fail? They selected Retry over and over.
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17741410
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Sid, the owner of the red convertible, always slept with his twin Lhasa Apsos, Helpless and Hopeless. He was an early riser and took his “girls”, as he called them, out for a brief walk, yes, and also he was up early to take his morning penicillin because he…
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177452
|
I considered explaining that the universe is still evolving and changing, but the look on her face said GENESIS ONE.
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177432
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There's still a swatch of jelly on his lower lip. Did you notice? That's not the way it's done, even on the tractor.
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17741110
|
Some of them are notorious tweakers. Nobody epitomizes the cowboy-outlaw biker more than the ironworkers, who are wired on Black Beauties they sell on breaks.
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177400
|
an ominous figure of fear and grace a ball moves back and forth
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177454
|
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17731716
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That night he dreamed about a duel with toothbrushes....
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177342
|
While I was still new at Black & Twigg, shortly before Thanksgiving, Percy brought me a handwritten memo to type, the subject “Turkey Hunt,” addressed to all Black & Twigg employees in the San Francisco office from management. It said that the firm…
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17731010
|
Yellow Pages season is on us now, and Jimmy's drivin' a contract route. He'll head out to the San Joaquin where they print, and load ‘em in the back of his Tundra with the high side walls until the whole damned rig sags low,
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1773107
|
She can never say why, but guilt rides her bones
like the spirit. She rubs worry raw.
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1773145
|
She's the one you remember when there's talk of the blow.
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177300
|
Bill was queasy, short of breath, his chest tightening. He was next. How he hated this game of confession. It was harder than going to a priest, which at least allowed a measure of anonymity. True, these were friends, yet, in terms of the game, he was vastly…
|
17721617
|
If I wanted cautious I wouldn't be in her bed. She would only sleep with her husband. Adultery is not for pussies. So I dive back into the conversation which has made my dick limp and ask where I'm wrong in our post-coital chatter and she says it doesn't
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177243
|
1. BLAME THE PARENTS This seems to be the most popular position on social platforms. Mom and Dad should have been watching this kid more closely. Period. Because how could any good parent fail to notice their own child climbing over a…
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177231
|
We learned to dance beneath a gazebo / in Spring Lake Park / We were fourteen
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177285
|
It was the first time I had ever seen a possession.
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177288
|
dicks, skulls and upside down crosses
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177110
|
Conjoined - her hardened nipple brushing, softly, against him, his chest hair caressing her skin like a thousand hungry lovers’ fingers – the perfect moment lasted eternity.
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1771119
|
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…
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1771114
|
Mounds of earth and grassless ground
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1771910
|
When we were seventeen, after her dad, the preacher, finished his Sunday night church services that required our mandatory attendance, we'd walk to my car in the pasture-turned parking lot holding hands and stop at the passenger-side car door to kiss deeply, get…
|
177154
|
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
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17712313
|
I am abandoned to the mundane/
calculations of a small mind/
trapped by small considerations
|
177163
|
You took up residence on the dark side of things, a bolthole in a wind-flayed right angle of a tower block where pigeons and suicides tumbled blackly on the air currents. You set about drifting off from who you were on a tide of cheap whisky and bad poetry, graduating…
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177144
|
... if they called her Mother, would she take them home and raise them?
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17711010
|
I had some words, but the truth is they don't mean a thing because whatever it is I was trying to say to you always crumbles to the ground in front of you. I had some words, but the bullying wind was stronger than me and ripped them…
|
177121
|
I can still feel the texture of those humid Delta mornings, hear the rhythm of the voices of black children echoing down the halls. I still remember the sense of purpose that I had each day, knowing that this, here, mattered: a child’s education, their
|
1770164
|
He ran his forefinger round the rim of the lid then sucked at his fingertip. The texture's like chalk, he thought, it tastes of earth. He hadn't anticipated this — but dipped his finger in again and swallowed. It was like scraping his tongue against a blackboard on…
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17701812
|
Reality winks at us then scampers off
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