1811 12 7
|
“If they look that good in shorts.” I warned him once, in a candid, humorous moment, “Then they’re probably too young for you to look at.”
|
1811107
|
She can never say why, but guilt rides her bones
like the spirit. She rubs worry raw.
|
181133
|
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.
|
1811106
|
“Ol’ Betty has a nice set of headlights,” he says with a wink as he springs out of the recliner.
|
181174
|
They had been wintering on the Cape under gunmetal skies...
|
181134
|
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
|
181131
|
Dark hung over the night like an occupation force. Across the street a Cuban diner fought it off with green and yellow neon lights, Latin rhythm beating through the air.
|
181011
|
He thought the scarab was bad luck. I knew too little about omens to argue.
|
181020
|
I love reading about myself. There's nothing more gratifying than seeing my name in the paper, knowing so many people are interested in who I am and what I do.
|
181032
|
Hair today...gone tomorrow
The sun beats down
on my balding crown.
|
181077
|
How much do book editors earn? Peacock Love. (aww…)
|
18101612
|
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...
|
181077
|
When God blessed creation, a ewe gave birth to Adam. When he cursed Satan, Eve hatched from a crocodile's egg.——In naming the animals, Adam marked them for death. His own name was a slow fire. Eve's was an inferno.——In the shelter of the Tree of…
|
181041
|
My ride, my good friend Morning was due any minute, but of course, he/she was always late. My costume was a dog. I was stuck to another dog, in the act of passion. A stuffed one. A basset hound. I said my name was Lightning.
|
1810178
|
|
181084
|
He had become an accessory to a murder.
|
181082
|
It was so hot we walked out on our husbands. There were reasons, we supposed. They left the refrigerator doors open all day, grabbing beers when they passed by, tossing the sticky caps upon counters. They drove their Metropolitans to buy food, leaving th
|
181010
|
The Jester sat down on the edge of his mattress. He laboured to bring one gout ridden leg up to lay across the other. The jingle bell at the tip of his pointed toe mocked each serrated movement of his limb with a jaunty tinkle. He grabbed his ankle to arrest its…
|
18101110
|
Someone will labor to keep it alive/
although the body will want but/
to return to random particles
|
181051
|
“What would you think if I committed adultery?”
She pauses very briefly before replying.
“What, you got time on your hands?”
|
180920
|
That put a real crimp in our already crimped sex life. Actually I didn’t mind as much as Allison minded. It made her real grumpy when she didn’t get laid. I could never understand how she could bear so much pain, because she was so small that it was l
|
180942
|
‘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.
|
180931
|
We learned to dance beneath a gazebo / in Spring Lake Park / We were fourteen
|
1809188
|
She’s there, in a tin, loosely wound
beneath sepia tissue paper, a braid
to worry in your fingers.
|
180977
|
I want to be that daring gardener who ploughs up her front yard -- to the horror of the Neighborhood Association.
|
180932
|
A true Rowdies fan begins every conversation about the band with a legend. She would be impressed if he knew the story.
|
180964
|
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
|
180920
|
Bill (Gunnery Captain of the Left Hand Gun, HMM Plunderer), while not exactly obese, nor could a disinterested observer call him him rotund, was nevertheless the sort of man who'd never be caught by a famine unprepared. And because of this more than regulation…
|
18092816
|
Lately he's been wanting to write about love...
|
180822
|
I've never really been impressed with authors that write long teary-eyed novels about people dying of terrible diseases or uplifting stories about the armless boy who made the wrestling team.
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