1675 6 5
|
There is an empty space,
between every note in rock 'n' roll,
where they have buried John Bonham,
|
1675139
|
Writing as a form of imaginative hatred
|
167565
|
There’s a hole in my sock, just large enough that my big toe keeps slipping out.
|
1675138
|
Every morning if I don't have to go potty....
|
167543
|
Somewhere in her the name triggers/
a grainy chain of Cheech & Chong
|
16751414
|
A wrinkled man lie atop an ivory-clad mattress, matched sheets covered his body, matched hair covered his head.
|
167500
|
“He's the one who took five tries to find your vein during your last blood draw, right?” This question spilled from the row of twenty EKG machines that now made up the hospital building's larynx
|
16751210
|
published in The Doctor T.J. Eckleburg Review.
|
167511
|
“Man, that Fats just nothin’ but a powerhouse, nothin’ but ‘Jesus Rolled Away the Stone’ and them Cats his apostles.” La KeeSha replied, “Ya’ll a real Blues Daddy now.”
|
1674119
|
My wife is making lunch. I suggest leftover pizza. We are going over to the neighbor’s house for pizza tonight, my wife says. I tell her that’s okay. I like pizza.
|
167489
|
I thought the Ferris wheel was dumb. All it did was give you a high altitude view of the little Minnesota town where I had grown up.
|
167431
|
The world—the natural world—was terrible and beautiful in wartime. The leaves shuddered off trees. The pockmarked fields. The fallen brick chimneys. The way the birds heaved together in enormous flocks like rescue missions and then just as…
|
167430
|
"Every single thing ... " Hunk Hokum pronounced from the stage, flexing his muscles and prancing around in his red pseudo-loincloth, "has been totally scripted ... and ... every action ... has been ... preplanned-out ... in advance!"
|
167432
|
fate is an illusion we use to ease the terror of our mortality
|
167432
|
Scientists have determined that a tiny freshwater organism known as the "bdelloid rotifer" gave up sex 40 million years ago. And you thought the spark had gone out of your marriage.
|
1674178
|
|
167412
|
“Why do you write filth?” they howl
|
167471
|
I’m in high leather boots; I’m talking many dead cows here and I respect that
|
167444
|
Sitting near her desk, like a dunce cap,
red
|
167411
|
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.
|
167474
|
My mother's afraid the dog will drown. It's raining and our street is flooding and the dog is standing on top of his doghouse. My mother is pregnant. I can stand beneath her stomach and not even see her face. I watch her from the kitchen window. She's shoeless. She holds…
|
1674125
|
Can’t you do anything right?
|
167498
|
All were part of the household of Court Astronomer Tycho Brahe (1546-1601)
who lost his nose in a duel as a student
and went through life thereafter wearing a gold prosthetic one instead
and who met and fell in love with a commoner who bore him eigh
|
167376
|
"We all knew that the thirty-eight year old mother, with the house on the hill, was having an affair with Darren, a fifteen year old boy, but no one did anything about it. When he was sixteen the parents found out and were furious, but the police were ne
|
167366
|
Enough, Trump.We've had it my dear, with your pink ties, your hairs, your swagger, towers, your plenty of monies,your tempers, your honeys. I don't speak for all, not at all, but for many who never did like your style or bile, your tenacious temerity,…
|
167300
|
You enter the lobby of the office building tentatively at first - you're a little nervous about this interview, after all - but you recall how spectacular and professional you dressed that morning. Plus you read through the company's LinkedIn profile at least five times…
|
167363
|
My fingers are shining
in the underwater afterlife of memory
searching for the nipple-sized mollusks
searching for the solid nature of things
left over from having lived a life
at all
That new rain smell, specifically
I remember that,
|
167300
|
If you were the ozone,
I’d want to leave you gaping.
|
167300
|
Do not listen to Christmas music out of season. Unless of course you want to ruin Christmas music. Forever.
|
1673114
|
My spooky cat got out again. Under the deck she ran. Out came the hose that chased her about. Fur spiked, tail pointing, yowling, she hissed at me, and back in the house she pranced. It's been two days now. She slithers out for food after…
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