1881 14 7
|
where is the magic at?
the spit
the dirt
or the words?
|
188110
|
Jasmine invited herself over and plopped herself on my futon. "Let's fuck," she said, bluntly. "I want to."
|
188053
|
Hunger only makes people hungry, but bad hair can ruin your whole day.
|
188084
|
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…
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188054
|
You left your quiet life for a home in the city.
|
188042
|
‘Didn't you used to have a daughter?'
The tense and phraseology jarred, but he was inarticulate not ignorant, awkward rather than unaware of how it sounded and she smiled at him.
|
188021
|
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...
|
1880114
|
Mounds of earth and grassless ground
|
1880135
|
That led to the first aid box on the bed at 3 in the morning, but what about those veggies?
|
188031
|
It's Granny hauling her crooked soul into heaven. Guess who I stole that image from?
|
188097
|
the array of regularly spaced wavering human forms floating upright seems to extend endlessly in all directions.
|
187943
|
take back all the falderal
and friggin' fiddle dee dee
take back the mad murmuring
of ten minutes ago
|
18791110
|
When her husband left she was not yet thirty
|
1879129
|
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…
|
187911
|
He shivered in his robe and pajama pants as the showdown with the piggy bank continued on this dark winter’s night. He couldn’t resist the cute dots for eyes, the stubby legs and perked up ears.
|
187900
|
There was a whole group of us Young Turk poets who hung out at the Savoy Tivoli in North Beach. Most of them drove cabs, (whereas I was now working in a damned gas station for Angel, my publisher’s man, who got me a job there.) They would double-park thei
|
187900
|
an ominous figure of fear and grace a ball moves back and forth
|
187933
|
The night wrapped its arms around us as we drove west, taking the highway past Medford towards Philly. The kids were asleep in the backseat and we were both counting the mile markers, staring out the windows with quiet eyes. I listened to the drone of the…
|
187955
|
Alessandro was no ordinary demon (what demon is?), insofar as he had Constable Pulce's number. In demonly fashion he had Pulce's number in a way Pulce himself did not.
|
187966
|
He hung up and I sang some whiney lyric about wanting him back. You know the songs that say the same shit: I’m an idiot. Love me anyway. I’m Velcro with nothing to stick to and you’re a nappy surface that gives me a reason to exist.
|
187895
|
So strange this feelingTo meet someone I've haven't really metTo know someone I don't actually knowTo desire to learn more but sure I never willTo feel connected not knowing what I'm connected toTo read words, thoughts, feel moved by them, but never hear a voice
|
187811
|
You know moments like these. You know how your mother ruins them.
|
187852
|
|
187873
|
Susie watched the record, her mouth agape just slightly, the spinning vinyl unveiling the powerful sound of a voice she'd wanted to hear her whole life.
|
187800
|
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
|
187875
|
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.
|
187854
|
Never touch David Letterman's neck!
|
18781612
|
It's the little things that trip us
up: a small hole in a level field,
an innocuous root in a well-trod
path, a disinclined sidewalk...
|
187821
|
In the dark, alone after she was gone, he would whisper her name into his pillow and fight the tears more out of shear exhaustion than anything else. He had mourned for her even before she had passed, as he watched helpless while the disease marched slowly and…
|
187800
|
From across the crowded bar, past the be-suited lobbyists and in between the plates of fried calamari and glasses of cabernet being hustled to and fro by the Salvadoran waiters, Travis could see that John had changed. Not much, but enough to be noticeable. A little grey…
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