1775 2 0
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I paused in case she said more. Then, “He’s very faint but he wants to talk.”
She leaned forward, chin almost resting on the grey-haired woman in front of her. “Tell him to shout.”
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177596
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Every time she tries to sleep they come; legions of small armored things scuttle claws aloft across the purple sand as soon as she stops moving.
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177450
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In a little dirt church at the end of the world stands the ikon of an unrecognized saint.
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17742216
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They come to mind/
like ice flowers/
on the small panes
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177411
|
The pear is a bruise. Feels like desperation in the light, it looks soft and blue. She wants to touch it and doesn’t want to. How the blood gathers under the blue and the body grows tender. Swells. Slowly.
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177472
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The ice in my drink provides ample cooling. The brew strength of my tea is just such that it combines in a pleasing fashion with the melting ice. My mind is clear and my belly absent hunger. I am completely sated from any physical desire at this very mome
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177433
|
Nearly everyone knows of that celebrated poet’s story coming down to us from classical Greek mythology: the tragic tale of Orpheus and his descent into the underworld to rescue his beloved Eurydice. Well, there’s a much lesser known story of a legendary 7
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177400
|
I went out behind Parker's house and saw Darrell's tent set up in the grass. The flaps of the pup tent were open. I could see him through the mosquito netting. He had a Coleman lamp burning and lay on his back in his underwear on top of his sleeping bag.
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1774123
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177442
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Renee said, "I have actually slept with a number of Captains of Industry and would rate them, overall, deficient in skills."
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177400
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Every time Hector left his home he wondered if it was for the last time. It was Monday at 2:45, so he was standing in the bedroom near the tall mirror, staring into his dark eyes. In the past, she would lovingly help him dress with her tiny, perfect fingers. She…
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1773185
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The day you came home, after three extended tours in Afghanistan, I wanted to welcome you at the bus station, but I was afraid you'd attach yourself to me again.
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17731611
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I don't know how long I was down on the curb. When I came around it took several minutes to realize that it wasn't the moon overhead at all but a street light and the sticky feeling stuff I was lying in was, yeah, my blood. And the hand on my shoulder wasn't hers. I…
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177386
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Your faded presence in sepia dream returns, firelight whispers and vanilla scented ash. We were a beautiful knot: sinew and hemp, burlap and magnolia petal, concrete and vapor. Gray kisses hovered overhead, misty…
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1773158
|
Mostly, though, reiteration of the old/
in an idiosyncrasy that strives/
to become fresh and fails
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177321
|
Four nights out of sevenI will lay with youFour nights out of sevenIt's the best I can do In the day, we will bake our breadAt night, ha, we will break our bed!Four nights out of seven, I will be with you
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177232
|
A married woman requests a butterfly tattoo that won't please her husband from an old tattoo artist.
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17721813
|
One must be drenched in words.
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177295
|
A little contempuous aside by the critical theorist guy, Frederick Jameson-- that it was logically absurd to call anything that human beings do, produce or effect “unnatural,”-- has brought forth the following. We are…
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177200
|
Would a chickenshit leave her like I did yesterday?
|
177220
|
It all started with a middle finger. This is where the chain of events began in Benjamin's mind as his mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood and the crunch of broken glass rolled against his teeth. The pickup followed much too closely, but Benjamin was too…
|
177220
|
I am a shadow. Cooler than liquid. I don't need a container to take shape.
|
177177
|
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177142
|
I think for a second that I should have called my husband out to witness this thing, but I am instantly made aware of why I have not.
|
177110
|
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
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177143
|
Still no rain. Eight months, says Hollister. More like nine, says James Earl. We stand in Hollister’s high meadow, what’s left of it.
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1771127
|
as i sink down into the
shadows crawling like a worm
past cold bricks
centuries old in my blood
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177177
|
It's a good thing too—because Of the way that feeling Made her even more beautiful than usual. You shouldn't doubt such an obvious Feeling. It's a good thing— Because frankly you have Been informed before. When Beauty …
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177166
|
No one writes epics anymore. Why? Perhaps it's because we no longer share mythologies. Once there was a shepherd, and now there is a Google bus loaded with pricks. Yes, you say, but they are good at math. Each and every one of them. And this is true. I envy them…
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177154
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He reveled in the chase, giddy when just out of arm’s reach. When to catch him, that was the question.
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