1721 6 6
|
Learned & wealthy but slowly going mad
from seeing, he did the only thing he could/he turned to love
|
17211817
|
Johan was telling stories about the occupation. The Germans were stupid, he said.
|
172065
|
“Can I feel it?” he reached his hands out immediately, expecting I’d say yes. I am the type to always say yes, right?
“Sure.” I confirmed, swallowing back my fear of his touch. He didn’t seem himself, like this. I led his hands to my hips and let them
|
17201413
|
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…
|
172010
|
Creamcheese straightened out that spectacular yellow dress, tucking a fully exposed nipple back in under the material. She pulled down the hem of the dress, then strolled right into the Savoy like a wooden duck being pulled on a string, and headed straigh
|
1720139
|
neon carrots and atomic tangerines
|
172010
|
They're bound to wonder what sort of offspring we'll hatch. We've done the tests, we are cross-fertile.
|
17201814
|
There are things we must not say.
|
172042
|
A father's soft neglect has repercussions.
|
172021
|
How could you run from me now?
The loneliest child in the house
|
172076
|
He leans in close then, close enough that when he speaks, his words tiptoe out and tuck me in.
|
172031
|
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.
|
171922
|
I think fat will just appear, like a narcotics cop at my door, or something.
|
171972
|
The guy stretches out his arm as he rounds up the herd of ducks that only want to bob. He pulls down his sleeve over a heart tattoo, faded from being seen so many times. It’s a skinny sort of heart tattoo, an askew heart from where I stand, an arrow fro
|
17191914
|
Maddy knew how to make a sauce. It embraced the meat in a thick, buttery ooze.
|
171900
|
Astrid hadn't always hated him.
They met at the Beta house in the fall of his junior year. Typical Friday night. Stoned, drinking beer. He and Red Chapman sitting in their room playing guitars. The girls in their blues jeans. The guys from the house hi
|
171997
|
God's real name is Frank, and he stops by all the time. He tries to dump that cheap Xmas candy on us.
|
1719108
|
Satchmo sings a love song over the sound system. People read books, tap keyboards, drink coffee, eat cake. In Barnes & Noble—more a coffee shop these days than a bookstore—I am thinking about my dad and his stomach cancer.The terror he…
|
17192913
|
With such demeaning precarity, I can’t read/
anything more than a thousand words
|
171832
|
Chills begin on my hand where his cool lips meet my skin and ripple through me. I try to focus on the road and cock my eyebrow. “Not bad for a 15-year-old.”
|
171832
|
I've heard of sucessful marriages where there's very little sex.
My heart aches for that kind of love.
|
171811
|
My best friend died yesterday. His name was Franklin Seever, but we all called him Lin. It started when we were in Little League. There were two Franklins on the team so Coach, who was my dad, called the fat one Frank and my best friend Lin.
|
171811
|
|
171832
|
and i'm almost out of cigarettes,
and fireworks and sorority girls
scream
from down the street.
|
171762
|
We’re on our way out, my brother and me, to the graveyard.
|
171774
|
|
171722
|
Christmas Eve arrives with a relief that the season of joy will soon be over so I can feel the pain I am denying myself. Rosie presses her face against the kitchen window, leaving ghostlike impressions of the tip of her nose and her lips on the glass tha
|
171730
|
His mouth went dry, but he managed to say, coolly, “Just how would you like me to do that, Sandra?”
|
171796
|
Gather 'round children, For it's high time to tell, The story of a strange man With a horrible, awful smell. For this is a story More disgusting than most. This is the gruesome tale Of Gary Von Gross. With a house made…
|
1717117
|
War came home tonight. We weep and hug, while he stares over our shoulders, like the statue we'll make of him. We pour a drink for his shaky hands, wheel him past his friends the dead, and lie to each other about other, far off places as if we knew.
|
