1797 18 14
|
Also in development,/
the anatomically perfect robot/
pool boy and naughty maid,
|
1797115
|
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…
|
1797119
|
He asked me to bury him in Vegas.
Instead, I had him cremated in Trenton.
|
17971513
|
We lived on the edge of a tiny Iowa town, and picked corn fields were steps away.
|
179733
|
They said AK, AK, if you want to come here, if you want to come to Antioch, you have to bring your A+ game. If you want to run with the big boys. That’s what they said. So I brought my A+ game.
|
179712
|
It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t scary. It wasn’t great. And it never is with people.
Except..eventually..when you meet the right person..it is.
|
179753
|
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.
|
1797106
|
He is drilling the door of a safe to access the keys he locked inside.
|
179754
|
|
179682
|
The Numbers will never romp up the stairs from the laundry room to slip warm socks on your feet on a winter’s night.
|
179675
|
I was Orson Welles skulking in the shadows and you Alida Valli;
our time measured like footsteps advancing on Gethsemane.
|
1796114
|
Mounds of earth and grassless ground
|
1796129
|
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…
|
179611
|
There was an ownership about the makeshift carnival. There was a therapy there.
|
1796147
|
where is the magic at?
the spit
the dirt
or the words?
|
17961610
|
|
179633
|
Susan was twenty-four when it happened again, but she had neither the patience nor the attachment to see it through.
|
17961310
|
I see my siblings once a year when we all show up, as if required by law, to eat Thanksgiving dinner. It is apparent with every bite how much they hate each other.
|
179564
|
To hear my name, called out across the Roman stones on a bridge in Regensburg through the languid March drizzle,
was to breathe again as my head burst through the water.
|
179533
|
In a corner of a neighbor’s land too stony to till Cob makes a mystery.
|
179587
|
what is raised up must rest on its foundation.
|
179532
|
Matthias Fenstermacher loved onions, but hated slicing them, and so he labored to produce a tearless variety. His first attempt was indeed tearless--instead of weeping, the slicer was overcome by fits of uncontrollable giggles. The potential hazard was
|
1795119
|
"Jesus was a zombie?" I ask, shocked.
|
179521
|
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.
|
179462
|
|
1794109
|
It was all I was convinced / in designing the encounter.
|
1794123
|
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…
|
179400
|
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
|
179442
|
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…
|
179463
|
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…
|
