1730 0 0
|
Walking to Colorado? He doesn't have that kind of time.
|
172921
|
Phil doesn’t know anything. He thinks his truck is possessed by his dead mother.
|
172920
|
His velvet mouth, shaped perfectly to intertwine with hers, teases the space between them until its caress finds her.
|
172976
|
On Saturdays, we pull out big white poster boards, magic markers, and draw babies.
|
172943
|
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.
|
172910
|
My only celebrity anecdote involves seeing Barbara Bush in the back of the Presidential limo ...
|
172900
|
We dig up conscience-tunnels, pluck the play-flower of present choice for fun, run aground, past this dimly lit, though not to be underestimated, stage, and open door upon empty door, to nothing, for the lights are a pulse flickering in the perceptual per
|
1729107
|
Look at her. She doesn't want to be here. The kiss and “wouldn't miss it for the world” was as empty as her crossed arms, crossed legs, and jittery foot were loaded. She attacked the foam of her latte with a tiny red straw. I wanted to scream. Complain about the…
|
172900
|
We crept to the edge of the cliff and stared down at Lake Travis. In this alcove, out of the churn of the speedboats and pleasure craft, the water shimmered, impossibly blue.
“Didn’t you used to jump off here back when you were getting high?” Ryan said
|
172955
|
. . . did you notice yesterday afternoon how for an entire quarter hour five o’clock itself looked for a few minutes as if it would never arrive?
|
172800
|
There is a feeling in my hands,
fingers,
a restive, potential energy,
drawing inward, reaching
|
17282111
|
I am not the wind./
I am a stone eroded by the wind
|
172842
|
There were three other guys on the bus. The landlord (or buslord) let us use the kitchen and bathroom in the house he shared with his wife. I rode into San José City College with the other guys, who were also taking classes there. I remember frigid autum
|
1728127
|
as i sink down into the
shadows crawling like a worm
past cold bricks
centuries old in my blood
|
172800
|
The museum’s catalog description changed much less than the painting over those years. He wasn’t curator-in-chief of catalog descriptions, however, that task went to a curator arriving by another door.
|
172862
|
"What the fuck are you looking at, Carl?" She snaps, turning her head toward me as the truck edges off the road and into a field of tobacco, into those broad green leaves of ancient sacristy and modern ablution. This is not a blissful kind of field. It is not full…
|
172876
|
She tells me I have to face the fact that I have the heart of the Tin Man. I know the story. He had none. She is very sensitive and I have to measure my remarks because words bruise her so easily. So, I…
|
1728102
|
She was about 35 or so and noticeably pregnant. She was near hysteria when she knocked on our apartment door, right across the street in L.A. from a convent. But she took one last desperate wild look at me, standing at the door. I saw the animal in her ey
|
172800
|
Everyone else in the bar was looking everywhere else: it was as though they were alone while Journey played loudly all around. “Streetlights, people,” she sang. Time didn't move. What she must be like while driving, singing to herself with the windows fog
|
172811
|
Trollo Martinez was wearing a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses and an old LA Community College T-Shirt. He needed to find some water so he could down the 5milligram tab of Ritalin in the palm of his hand.
|
172833
|
artemis is but a mincing fawn:/ no sacred bitches need i in my ranks,/ nor hunting dogs to tear a man apart/ when i have teeth enough to bruise fine flanks.
|
172800
|
|
172782
|
Entering that darkroom is like slipping through the barrel of a rifle.
|
172752
|
We lay in what we have made, minute fleshy bullets in the target we have made.
|
17272014
|
the doomed, but splendid,
first year GT40.
|
172700
|
Dr. van Roos reminded the group that trauma is trauma...
|
17271210
|
Lucy looked up, smiled and said mine had a head that looked like a mushroom. I suppose she was right. We were sitting on the floor drawing naked bodies for our anatomy lesson and teasing each other about our lack of drawing talent. We were new friends, having met when…
|
172752
|
But I still don't have my underwear in the right place.
|
172733
|
He was a sushi chef, and he would spend hours in their kitchen practicing his knife skills, and the speed with which he can put that there and this in that and so on; and she would see him on the floor most mornings, still wearing that dirty, tattered ban
|
172764
|
First off, don't worry about the marriage. It ain't gonna last. But don't worry. People will drive you nuts with that tiresome old chestnut, “there's more than one fish in the sea.” Thing is, they're right. Listen. I'm not talking salmon and sea bream…
|
