1663 0 0
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166388
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Today the color of the skyremakes my heart into somethingless willing to break, or to judge,and I am thankful for it. Acolor not unlike walking chestdeep in the ocean and seekingbeautiful clouds and thinking Iwill be back. Dreaming with the sky.Please stop lying to me. A…
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166234
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IT's like, 15 words. Do you really need a snippet?
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1662139
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Writing as a form of imaginative hatred
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166233
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“What is the sickness that you have?” Colin behind the glass wondered.
“Too much world,” said Anise Fish.
“We have that in common.”
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166244
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Sitting near her desk, like a dunce cap,
red
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166288
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166274
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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…
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166285
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They are plastering on lipstick in pay-to-enter toilets
around the corner from the mosques, where old men
sit on back streets selling toilet seats, spices by the
shovel, flashlights, and Audrey Hepburn t-shirts
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166287
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166275
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Long, elegant, with a touch of arch,
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1661119
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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.
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166189
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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.
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16612114
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Walking to class, Paula routinely fishes around in her purse to be sure the condom she thinks of as a close friend, even naming it Rhonda, is in there to help her avoid a pregnancy yet, even so, Paula admits that sometimes she daydreams in that boring economics class,…
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166155
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The white faces of the train look up in an attempt to satisfy presumption, smoothing out any interest into glassy eyed gestures toward looking but lacking the very important quality of sight.
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166183
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He was supposed to be a garden gnome. Give pause to the squirrels, keep an eye on the impatiums. We found him at Wegman’s. He looked hopeful and observant.
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1661127
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as i sink down into the
shadows crawling like a worm
past cold bricks
centuries old in my blood
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166176
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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…
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166166
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Now, at last, she finds what she's been searching for. Worms. Like bitty pale larva, like half-moons of air trapped under fingernails. She thinks she sees one twitch; she blinks more furiously and hates herself for it.
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166163
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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,
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166133
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1661105
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As a boy I fished under the Tappan Zee bridge which spans the Hudson River above New York City.
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16611512
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I took Annie to the zoo, and the tigers got out. The little tigers, that is. Cubs. Two of them. The zoo employees scurried about, peeking into nooks and crannies.
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166021
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‘Miguel! A pint of Guinness, please!'
I might as well have asked for his mother's immortal soul. A smile as benign as a stiletto. But he served a clean and tidy pint.
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166010
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It’s the small stuff. Always. A conversation with a stranger, brief yet so connected it overwhelms you. These encounters can move me beyond my reality, little reminders that, if you just crack the window a little, something very special can blow in.
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166031
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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…
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166099
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He remembered waking up on those lazy summer days hearing the sad song of mourning doves.
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166032
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fate is an illusion we use to ease the terror of our mortality
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166095
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Uzma accepts my invitation for dinner.
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166012
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“Why do you write filth?” they howl
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