1787 17 14
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We have always been a trashy species./
We study ourselves by examining/
garbage-- a pile of mussel shells here,
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178700
|
With her head thrown back and mouth open she howls into the dark green night, letting her gloved hands droop like the front paws of a dog. A large orange corsage attached to the bosom of her gown.
Around her thick neck, a ribbon of black velvet. Her p
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178766
|
Learned & wealthy but slowly going mad
from seeing, he did the only thing he could/he turned to love
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17861111
|
not to free ourselves//
from suffering//
but become the window//
through which it sees//
|
178666
|
My father was dating already. Her name was Shelly. She had a man-like body, buck teeth and red hair, a big forehead. I don't know what bog she climbed out of. She wanted to fill in for my mother, but I locked her out of my room. I just wanted to be sad and hold…
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178622
|
When I was young in the suburbs, there was an empty lot across from our house. Bulldozers cleared the trees, shredded the bushes, and piled mounds of dirt three times as tall as I. But they never built a house.The dirt mounds, chain-link fences, and neon signs were…
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1786159
|
She called it phantom energy. She said it was costing us money every month. A few cents here and there, sure, but it all added up.
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178620
|
we're only playing with this language you and I
|
178653
|
Her time was spent in its usual way, breakfast, pills, organizing and cleaning. It was just hours behind today; hence the late swim. She was proud she did it, that she went outside. She swam, moved herself in the pool, chilly as it was. The pump made a wa
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17862015
|
The boys drank in one room. The girls in another. Always the same, no matter the letters.
Greek Letters.
Shabby sofa on the burnt-out lawn.
|
178684
|
I've been mostly positive since joining up with Sister Helen. My previous pessimism involved spiritual degeneration, moral decline and decay, weak and weary instincts. I clung to life, afraid to die. Then I read something by Nietzsche, I'm not sure where but, like a seed,…
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1786159
|
fat furry marmots who play hide and seek
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178600
|
When my feet touched the ground on the tarmac at Bagram I cannot begin to describe the feeling I had. It was as if God had spoken to me directly, whispering in the cold mountain air: “Son of Marjan, I welcome you.” The feeling took hold and overcame m
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178554
|
You left your quiet life for a home in the city.
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178511
|
You know moments like these. You know how your mother ruins them.
|
178520
|
...to know something people around you don’t know can put you outside of them. And then you can’t get back in...
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1785116
|
'love is when the body goes away.'
|
178575
|
Traveling in half-lit fluorescence, she smiles up at me, pale and strained
|
178411
|
The world waited with bated breath as Tiffany stood in the grocery store aisle that housed the various kinds of fruit spreads for sandwiches and toast. She tapped her toe and nodded her head this way and that while she compared the qualities of two jars of…
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178431
|
The fabric on the waiting room chairs is stained and matted, but has been cleaned over and over.
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1784148
|
And she's dying like someone who's tried living and failed.
|
178421
|
For the residents of Oak Morrow, entropy is an art form. They break their own windows and crash their cars into their living rooms. Grannies and pets can usually scoot out of the way before they’re crushed under the juggernaut of creativity.
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1784189
|
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178400
|
Photographs can create, both good and bad. They can create a way to make a living, but they can also create opportunities for black mail, divorce settlements and most of all they can create power.
|
178421
|
How could you run from me now?
The loneliest child in the house
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178384
|
Your voice so soft / I wish it was touch.
|
178321
|
Xao Ping reflexively dug her claws into the plush chenille of the sofa and let out a low yowl. She knew the old lady would be mad if she tore the fabric, but she couldn’t help it.
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17831413
|
The one-legged crow was back in the yard again today, as it was yesterday and may have been before, but yesterday was the first time I noticed it among the murder while using the binoculars that I often use to bring things closer, things like these iridescent and beautiful…
|
178393
|
cymbals guy — another way of saying hey turdshitface haul your skinnyass to the front of the bus.
|
1783176
|
Yankees call them daffodils.
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