1802 18 14
|
Squirrels and mice fear her shadow
|
180275
|
my God, I have no time, no time
|
180277
|
I want to be that daring gardener who ploughs up her front yard -- to the horror of the Neighborhood Association.
|
18022913
|
Cinnamon and smoke
infuse the days that shorten,
chill, accelerate.
|
180273
|
Having read the poetry of Dennison
I hereby give up writing.
|
180256
|
In Your Absence the yard-cat, Flower, has started sleeping on top of the fridge
|
180121
|
Robbie Lange closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair. Yawning, he looked out the window into the black night. Another evening at the office, he thought. He counted the other lit windows in the skyscrapers around his building. “Goodnight, everyone
|
1801129
|
If you find the place they forgot to bomb send me a hot pink postcard. The planet is only so big. We're already dipping our heels into the waters without wanting to become true believers, miserable followers. The bedtime stories will have to…
|
180132
|
I don't know if I'm going to get Alzheimer's, but know I don‘t want to. That's why I just read “100 Simple Things You Can Do To Prevent Alzheimer's“ by medical journalist Jean Carper. Doing simple things is something I'm good at. And while I'm…
|
180132
|
The man who plays his flute every day under the archway near Powell station is not very good. He never plays a real tune, just a series of random notes. There is no rhythm or melody either. In fact, it's not even a flute he…
|
180100
|
It might not seem easy to breathe any love into a name like Father. It’s a stiff word—it’s not soft, like, say, Papa—but sometimes you have to breathe love into names you don’t choose.
|
180188
|
Sometimes you've just got to dance to Be heard. You have got to sing out loud To be understood. Other times No matter what you splash 'n' paint on 'em The beauty goes on shamelessly Not arousing any type of newfound Curiosity. We're…
|
180121
|
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.
|
1801107
|
She can never say why, but guilt rides her bones
like the spirit. She rubs worry raw.
|
1801138
|
When you bring information, it does not arrive.
|
180133
|
Some trick of the morning light makes the tattoo on her ankle look like the burn from a branding iron. She had watched her father as he slept last night. He was handsome and innocent, like a baby boy.
|
180011
|
The muster zone was south of U.S. 119, off the Halleck Road. The search began on a large parcel, some 75 acres of farmland, property of one Mr. Shakelford. Shakelford had allowed the earth to go wild; brush, thistle and small…
|
180032
|
The snake-like veins began to pulsate angrily, and viciously about his body. Quickly he rose up about the girl. His heart was now pounding rapidly against his chest. Outstretched, were his wings, the width of the balcony, white and decrepit and old, yet s
|
180075
|
I am standing in the kitchen, kneading dough, because this is one way to say sorry. This is way to say, things will be different now, look.
|
180074
|
They had been wintering on the Cape under gunmetal skies...
|
180034
|
Sunday, Nolan and I drop by the ice rink on 10th and Alma to watch the amateur hockey leagues battle it out in an unspoken yet assumed class war: the buff, unemployed rink bums who can grind ice, cross-check, and stick handle like the pros, versus the dou
|
1799124
|
"Cooperation and sharing could eliminate poverty."
|
179933
|
The Karaoke Girls are not appreciated. Not nearly enough and not often enough.
|
179952
|
|
179977
|
How much do book editors earn? Peacock Love. (aww…)
|
1799106
|
Post No Bills.
The Crouton Mavens.
United Burglars Union.
Crockpot Mistakes.
The Heavy Doors.
Fire In the Yurt.
Douche Baguettes.
Upsy-Daisey.
Schmazelhood.
Sidetrackia.
Flotsam and Jetsam.
Argyle Sox.
Roachmobile.
The Adulterer’
|
1799188
|
She’s there, in a tin, loosely wound
beneath sepia tissue paper, a braid
to worry in your fingers.
|
179900
|
A few people bristled and looked at Jim, but since he was avoiding their gaze, they had no choice but to return their attention to their own table and pretend to pay attention to the conversation they previously had been pretending to pay attention to.
|
179964
|
A junkyard Bison seems an odd choice over the usual dog, but it did the job--trampling trespassers, vagrants and unautorized salvagers with a violent and admirable efficiency
|
179953
|
Our mothers died in childbirth. Taken in by the village, our new mothers taught us to wave at the river boats, to sell our trinkets to tourists. They offered us coins of a foreign currency and little pathetic smiles. By nightfall, our fingers bled. Then came…
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