1651 12 9
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His knife enters the Maui onion. He minces garlic and applies heat to pan and melts sweet cream butter and browns the garlic first and then he adds the onion and more heat, but it's time that will surely caramelize them. Salt and pepper and splashes of wine for the pan and…
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165121
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The air has its dark confessional, and I have mine. Hot is called raw by some, hate mixed with malice for others. I am only separated by this dark window of time from you, but you never feared the lovely or the lonely.
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16511812
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“ I told you what she said, that she liked me better when I was drinking. Well, that's the way I feel, too. I liked her better when I was drinking.”
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165121
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The Bridge Barstow had not wanted to listen to Griff. Griff was not making the right decisions, or he thought Griff was not making the right decisions. Thought he was walking a…
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165153
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The thing was, though, she couldn’t shake the image of that dead dog she had found inside the black trash bag she thought could be first base, right before the twins said, Screw the game, let’s swing.
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165021
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Face defined-front part of head
Cybil's eyes stick to a mirror and guard the woman's skin. The woman's image could be the result of uncontrolled narcissism, yet dry wrinkles are visible from her reflection. Disguise cream covers some of the woman's c
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165021
|
Xao Ping reflexively dug her claws into the plush chenille of the sofa and let out a low yowl. She knew the old lady would be mad if she tore the fabric, but she couldn’t help it.
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16501211
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I peed on Rick’s toothbrush. I nearly repented and cleansed it with hydrogen peroxide in the middle of the night. But I didn’t.
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165052
|
Didn't he have like a frog
No lips so speak of, and the weathered lizard
Look of the frequently face-lifted?
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165032
|
He arrives at the appointed hour, driving up the dusty road in his '68 Ford truck. On the side is stenciled “Sampson's Farrier Service.” He parks in front of the barn. Patience watches from the front porch, where she has just set down a…
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165011
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He laughed – pictures traveled across his mind of bodies and mouths and the sex and the liquor, he could taste the flesh and the alcohol right then, strong, immediate.
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16501211
|
Maybe, after years of writing poems like letters, he began to notice that no one ever wrote him back.
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165020
|
Crazy. I really hate when people use that word.
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165011
|
The closed door swallowed up both voices, and all I could make out afterward were muffled pleas and angry answers that died completely.
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16502011
|
We invent our beauties//
as we find them and engineer/
our horrors
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164953
|
She asks if I only write about men, which I tell her is redundant. I also answer, “Yes, but sometimes I write about them as race cars, hyenas, vaginas, or God.”
She smirks like she wants to smile, but it’s stuck halfway out her door. Her happiness has
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164972
|
When the black cloth falls on you all food tastes like airline food. Every song sounds like Barry Manilow. Every poem sounds like Rod McKuen. It’s all just noise to you now.
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164900
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Under the dirty orange glow of sodium streetlights, the glistening pavement looks slick, but it’s only just wet. The mid-November temperature is cool—quite mild, actually, for this late time of year—still hovering in the upper 30s—so far posing only the
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164942
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To Charles Bukowski "I haven't shat or pissed in seven years," she tells him, negotiating each word around the Marlboro. Because he doesn't know what else to say, Isaiah asks, "Haven't you seen a …
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164911
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Her thumbs tucked beneath the waistline of her pants, slightly pulling them down to expose the eternity between belly button and bliss. I looked up at her as I slid my tongue along the rail of her hip, sucking at its point.
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16491912
|
Start now. Make lists. Call long-lost friends. Say what needs saying. Raise hell.
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16491914
|
We all//
fall short and fail.
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164977
|
I want to be that daring gardener who ploughs up her front yard -- to the horror of the Neighborhood Association.
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1649115
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This weekend was supposed to be about intellect and soul-mating, but, like all others, it's turned into body and longing. You sit in my passenger seat and I let you smoke in my wee car with the windows rolled down. We've come from a wedding, a fairy ring, a…
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1649145
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She's the one you remember when there's talk of the blow.
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164900
|
All I know about the futureis that every one alwaysgets to exactly where they are.
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164962
|
If we thought that love was gone
that out of sweetness none remained
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164912
|
I am tired of playing the old game: Saying something old in a new way. So let me do the opposite:
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1648137
|
Here’s how you do it. First you get a ladder, a long one.
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164874
|
Things aren't going to get better are they? Would you like a sugar cube? No. Are you sure? I put acid on it. Oh, well yes, I guess then. Cool. Things might get better for a little bit then. Or horribly worse. Ha. Awesome. They taste like an orgasm…
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