1709 7 7
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How much do book editors earn? Peacock Love. (aww…)
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170953
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Another Saturday in April. Another set of scars.
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170900
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June Day sprinted with urgency through the halls of the Armistice. Whenever she passed a window looking out into space, if it wasn't already covered, she didn't bother looking out, but not because of her hurry; no one did anymore. She was young, but the…
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170900
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Frey wanted to see heaven without having to die. He had returned from the sea after being gone for three weeks, ranting wildly about a giant ship he had seen in the distance one afternoon.
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170943
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"I'll tell you one thing I don't want to see, armed confrontation, leading to domestic warfare."
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170987
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170862
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170821
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I remember ...all the teenagers offered no-longer favored CDs, last year's cell phones, third-place trophies, team jerseys, played-out videogame cartridges, and candy-colored miniature stuffed animals...
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170874
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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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170800
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And Mickey said to the reporter, "I wrote a play for Richard. It is the wild play I performed with Richard. I think he will like this shit."
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1708156
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170854
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A man with bleeding hands at the back door of Out of the Closet
this morning asked me for the bride and groom figurines at the
top of my donation box
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1708148
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When Kat returned home from The East Street Wars, she learned that her epileptic lover, White Dog, died from madness
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170885
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17081310
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I bought some charlatan art / and hung it on the wall
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170892
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It's the outrage of the red monkey at her feet,
And the nude thirteen-year-old woman sitting upright
In the blue velvet chair, and the hints of blue at her navel,
And at her lips and belly and crotch, that so upset Paris.
Gauguin had his nerve
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170743
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1707123
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I'm explicating Emily Dickinson when the alarm starts: three long, two short. Lockdown mode. Only there was nothing in the staff bulletin about a drill. So I tell the students to get down on the floor, away from the window. I open the classroom door and lock it from…
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170754
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Never touch David Letterman's neck!
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170775
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my God, I have no time, no time
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170787
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We want our lives even-cut, …
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170720
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I saw it all, in a flash. Holy shit! I thought. This is good. I have to sit down and begin writing. This is serious. Dead serious!
I would rather be doing this than eating, or fucking, or anything. It was exhilarating. If I could only keep this up, who
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170762
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If we thought that love was gone
that out of sweetness none remained
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170754
|
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17061312
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screw everything, youth is plinko
|
170655
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While the other kids blew bubbles, Maddy clung to my neck. She didn't cry or scream, and she held on loosely, not with the death grip some kids have. For five Wednesday afternoons, Maddy wrapped her pudgy arms over my shoulders and rested her bottom on m
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170620
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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…
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17061512
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She wears three or four tattered sweaters on cool days. She pushes a basket borrowed from a grocery store. There is a plastic lawn bag in the basket with God knows what inside.
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170631
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the future wrapped up in a dream
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170620
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I remember being sent a picture once from one of my old roommates, Louise, back in Chicago where I came from. The photo was taken when she’d come out for a visit to California. In the picture I am sitting on the front stairs of my house in the Rockridge
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