1773 4 4
|
... if they called her Mother, would she take them home and raise them?
|
17731010
|
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…
|
177231
|
We learned to dance beneath a gazebo / in Spring Lake Park / We were fourteen
|
1772188
|
She’s there, in a tin, loosely wound
beneath sepia tissue paper, a braid
to worry in your fingers.
|
177221
|
I look at that wall, it has piss-stain yellow paint and water scars from several years of leaky pipes. I say I wouldn’t mind that, if he took out some of that wall.
|
177200
|
Poppy de Witte was content to spend her summers in Cape Cod, where her family owned a small beach house considerably less stifling than their spacious apartment on Park Avenue.
|
1771164
|
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…
|
17712711
|
|
177184
|
SPOT ON OUR LUNG We sense A stillborn dawn. A furtive, lurking gray, A sleight of dusk, eclipse, that follows Us. TITANIC'S LANTERNS Upon My rain-glazed panes Wet lights from neighbors glow Like lantern beams from shipwrecks…
|
177185
|
And because the film is French, the camera pauses / long moments at the curve of her neck, it watches/ her finger vermilion tulips in a vase. Her new lover,/ a wisp of a man, looks good in leather./ The camera pans quickly across beige suede,/ rests long
|
1771127
|
my space heater throws a pale orange light
my white candles flicker in the middle of the night
|
1771139
|
|
17711512
|
(I'd appreciate some feedback on this very weird story.) A Frosted Mini Wheat walks in to a bar...
|
17711814
|
Also in development,/
the anatomically perfect robot/
pool boy and naughty maid,
|
1771119
|
He asked me to bury him in Vegas.
Instead, I had him cremated in Trenton.
|
1771139
|
Like many little towns, ours has an archive. It is a catalog of everything that happens.
|
17712217
|
While you can,/
find the beautiful
|
177022
|
I flung the basketball at the hoop and Cooper shagged the ball. He was the luckiest bastard I knew. ...
|
177011
|
I am in the hallway, but I don’t sense it. That is to say: I don’t feel my body. I am like a phantom, a limbless entity floating, flailing.
|
177021
|
Mrs. Noah eyed the thickening clouds from the front stoop. Noah was still out in the yard kicking up sand in disgust, arguing with himself the whole time. Piles of cedar timber lay strewn all about. Maybe if they’d lived even three days’ journey clos
|
17701712
|
When asked to turn over the Church's riches / he brought before the Roman prefect the poor, blind, ragged and infirm.
|
1770129
|
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…
|
177021
|
Oh no, here is that Whitman man
I’ve heard he is a bounder.
Don’t look his way or catch his eye-
Just get another round, dear.
|
177000
|
The place turns out to have a really nice ambiance, and while the pasta is only passable—though I ordered, I believe, the cheapest plate on the menu, so maybe I got what I deserved—the background dinner music playing is "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" by Wilco.
|
177054
|
Never touch David Letterman's neck!
|
176974
|
"Merry Christmas, Willie."
|
176922
|
Next to you, the mother tightens her grip on her stroller. The young teenager tears her gaze from her mobile phone for an instant.
|
176933
|
I know I’m slipping
into my mother’s skin. I answer the phone
with her voice; her hands grind the coffee beans.
And who is this listening to NPR in the morning
while the fresh-faced girls in the neighborhood trudge toward school,,
peonies han
|
176952
|
|
17691715
|
With such a world/
one must invent a heaven
|
