1638 5 2
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The past operates with incredible gravity. Powerful, efficient, deceptive. Thin, sleek cords sent out by it attach themselves to your back, your legs, your buttocks, the back of your head. Resist. Walk. One leg after another. Easy does it, like a baby. Do
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163831
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It was a phone call we never expected. You were so full of life and joy and the sound of your laugh was pierced in our minds. Two strokes. That's what they said. No explanation, no back story. We worried we would lose you. Immediately, all of our memories with you started…
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163801
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Well, just put your hand on my knee, alone in my room, perv, unasked-and-unflirted for, go get a date, you coward, you limp-dicked male bitch . . .
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163895
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Uzma accepts my invitation for dinner.
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163844
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Sitting near her desk, like a dunce cap,
red
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163841
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My ride, my good friend Morning was due any minute, but of course, he/she was always late. My costume was a dog. I was stuck to another dog, in the act of passion. A stuffed one. A basset hound. I said my name was Lightning.
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16381012
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A cult is one thing; it defies common sense that a commonly educated person cannot escape cultist thinking and belonging. That cult, A.A., is girded by police, fire, therapy, hospitals, insurance companies, and courts.
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163861
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In his mind, he could hear Eve’s voice, “We had some good times, didn’t we?”
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163833
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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.
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16381410
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Oh to be young and vigorous.
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163711
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writing because it's the only drug i havesick on sadnessas the weight of the moment crumbling around me comes down some sweet second inspires…
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16371415
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The place is buzzing with little women, all clad in black smocks.
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163732
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Jesus was a cancer survivor and possibly a super nova.He ran with the Wolves of night time, with the women of the paleolithic era and hunted for meat when the blood didn't drip to their feet and create veritable red shoes like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.I am no longer in…
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16371211
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Coward, cuckold, she taunts: So be it. He's not a young man anymore, nor as clever as he once was, or thought.
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163721
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...something darkly malevolent looming above him...
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1637128
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1637125
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Can’t you do anything right?
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163700
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Do I feel good about any of that? Not really. But I seem to find myself asking over and over again, why should I care? That's something that's never happened before. But I'd be lying if I didn't say I kind of liked it.
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163742
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I imagined the crystals in my mouth.
Salt flowers blooming on my tongue.
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163642
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The villagers smash in a garage door with their heads, causing some to bleed from the ears and mouth.
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163621
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The other night while we stood in the kitchen locked in each other's stone silence, he finally said, “You're waiting for something to get you to the other side of grief. But there's no such thing.”
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163698
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Who are all these rough looking people, hanging over me, itching me with their shaggy, grapevine arms? Like twisting, dangling down, painted, cloth Gargoyles on a quickly coming apart, dried up rope? It's always been the same old perch to view from. You wanted to know…
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163612
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Harold’s a thinker, authors their plans. Last week he swiped six encrusted cans of Stroh’s from a faded cooler in his dad’s garage. He and LS guzzled each one in a chigger-weed patch behind the school gym, slurping and thumbing a stack of purloined
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163633
|
Everyone was shocked when they heard Tinkerbelle was six days gone and had got so heavy she couldn't fly. Who could have done it, everyone asked, but Tinkerbelle wasn't telling. So no one knew. That isn't true. I knew, and in this Declaration I swear I will tell…
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163665
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There is an empty space,
between every note in rock 'n' roll,
where they have buried John Bonham,
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163687
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Tender veterinarian, even if you weren't so tall, or your eyes so warm, or your fingers so long, or if you didn't bend over my sick cat with such astounding grace, or shoot those quick, intense glances at me, I'd have woven dreams while in your uncommon presence. Vulnerable…
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163600
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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.
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163676
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She hadn’t died. She wasn’t a ghost. She wasn’t even invisible. She just wasn’t see-able.
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163600
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"Did I have a dream, or did the dream have me?" - Rush, "Nocturne"
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163621
|
Hollywood is the land of the slow no.
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