1750 5 3
|
Hunger only makes people hungry, but bad hair can ruin your whole day.
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175033
|
Things are a little out of hand. Information fills room after room after room. I have no bloody idea where I am. I have your photo, but the navigational coordinates are difficult to interpret. Where the hell are you, anyway? I don't like mazes — too much like…
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1750101
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Loving you, I always knew, was a job I’d only get via a dead woman’s shoes. There you were, the recipient of pot roasts, fresh bread, at a loss amongst neighbourhood widows and divorcees. A tide of them rolled over you in calico blouses, cut off jeans
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175021
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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.
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17501715
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With such a world/
one must invent a heaven
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175000
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Lean closer, she smiles, smell my perfume let yourself be taken to a wild forest where owls grow and trees fly.
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175077
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I want to be that daring gardener who ploughs up her front yard -- to the horror of the Neighborhood Association.
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175011
|
The closed door swallowed up both voices, and all I could make out afterward were muffled pleas and angry answers that died completely.
|
175001
|
I am reaching out at you, to you from the nest. From the nest, please come to the nest, to see me and to hear my life story. From the nest I go, and then I arrive at the nest, suddenly, just in time to be…
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1750135
|
The javelin was cancelled after the unfortunate incident with Mrs Parker last year, but no one could have predicted this year’s sack race tragedy.
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174997
|
Dark, green grass covered the pasture like millions of tiny fingers swaying in the heat.
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17492711
|
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174946
|
Two cars smashed together, the sky started to look like a foot infected with gout...
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174921
|
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
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174920
|
a store called ROCKING FROCKS. In its window was a black tee shirt that said in big white letters, I'M NOT A SLUT, I'M WITH THE BAND.
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174955
|
Vandalina embarked on her career of serious dramatic roles to widespread acclaim, her depth of feeling and potency of delivery winning her thunderous ovations and gushing reviews . . .
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174965
|
The bar sounds grew (as bar sounds will) until everything rushed together -- clinking glass, tinkling ice, laughter and zippers going down then up.
|
174954
|
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
|
174954
|
Never touch David Letterman's neck!
|
174974
|
The officers carried him away in cuffs as he yelled "I NEED STATS! PLEASE! JUST GIVE ME THE STATS!"
|
174987
|
We want our lives even-cut, …
|
1749115
|
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…
|
1749137
|
a Ferris wheel gently rocks
its last riders
then dumps them to the ground.
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174955
|
His people eat soggy casseroles and smile with tight lips.
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17481812
|
Reality winks at us then scampers off
|
174876
|
He hasn't had a wedding ring in years. When George's knuckles began to swell — a little arthritis — his ring dug into his finger so bad his wife Loren took him to the ER and had it cut off. The ring, not the finger. He never knew there was a tool to cut rings,…
|
174855
|
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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174833
|
Stop! the voice commands in a guttural shriek. Do not move. You are under arrest. But the voice is only in his head; he has created it the way a writer creates characters on a page, and it is just as real to him as if someone were really there.
|
174833
|
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
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174832
|
Hair today...gone tomorrow
The sun beats down
on my balding crown.
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