1731 18 11
|
It could be fun,/
with the guns, explosives, Molotov/
Cocktails and all,
|
173100
|
Not long ago, Owen the Second showed her a skull. He kept it in a brown cardboard box in the top of the closet. "My first wife," he said, and sneered, his lip bunching up around a scar just under his nose.
|
173154
|
Quail looked up at her. Unsmiling, challenging.
Lemme just go wash my hands, he said.
She closed the door, bolted it. You won’t need your hands.
|
173133
|
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
|
173164
|
You're thinking I don't have a conscience, right? I'm asking you.
|
173164
|
the first day of preschool/ my mother walked me down the street/ to a tall building that cut/ like a knife made of bricks/ right into the street,/ an american flag/ sticking straight out/ just above the door.
|
17302011
|
The suite of dark rooms/
extends forever./
It’s no big deal.
|
173053
|
“Me try anything,” he says, then laughs a little. “You’re fucked.”
|
173043
|
"Hey, man. All we represent to them, man, is somebody who needs a haircut."
|
173043
|
He’d tossed and turned all night, pondering what to do, afraid she was living alone. He’d decided to email her two words: “Love you” and signed it “Scary Sal,” as she’d always seemed so afraid of him.
|
1730109
|
Strike me down hard, bolt of pure blue, laser focus square, blast of hydrogen nuclear, knock me on the keister, blind me down, oh Lordy Lord Lord.
|
173021
|
The chipping sound started around the time Susannah reached puberty. Not all at once, it was just now and then at first.“What's that noise?” she'd say, and everyone would cock their heads to listen. Her mother eventually took her to the doctor. He said it…
|
173095
|
The border crossing at El Paso will soon be arriving. I'm apprehensive about Mexico, all the violence.
|
17301617
|
Sharpie marked, Free Still Works
|
173097
|
When I first arrived/footling-breeched/you two were there/ahead of me.
|
173065
|
The robot may be grabbing onto something so big I'm mistaking it for the countryside, or the sunset. I could just be one cog in an infinite chain of leg-attachment, stretching from the cosmos to the sub-atomic.
|
1729179
|
watch/
the second hand sweep
|
172933
|
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…
|
172998
|
I think I remember now why people write poetry.
|
172911
|
Only ever been twelve men on the moon. And one cheese.
|
17291516
|
He didn't hide it. He told her he was a mortician when he called. He had responded to her ad in the Lonely Hearts section of the newspaper.
|
172932
|
You are walking through a canyon made of shelving units lined with colorful masterpieces of three-dimensional minimalist design
|
172971
|
I’m in high leather boots; I’m talking many dead cows here and I respect that
|
172975
|
Independence Day was a Thursday. Frank had been invited to join some Yale Art School classmates in Vermont for a three-day bacchanalia.
|
172921
|
Cammie Richard's house was just like all the others in Wilchester. The exterior was vaguely reminiscent of the Dutch style; gray stone with cross beams of dark wood, with two stories and a bay window. Her yard was fertilizer green, with a giant STRATFORD FOOTBALL…
|
172932
|
She looks exactly like my sister, though I do not have a sister.
|
172911
|
I don’t personally know any models—let alone any supermodels—at this point in my life but some years back my father, who was working for the Woolite Corporation, was in charge of hiring models for them.
|
172920
|
He slumped forward, drooling into his lap.
|
1728102
|
I had no portent this would occur, /
Ne'er did I see this happening, /
Not days before, nor those coming;
|
172898
|
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…
|
