1315 7 4
|
He calls it an owl glass: he’s allowed: he’s six.
|
131566
|
Man, I'm not feeling so happy anymore. I tried to tackle my money but it slipped past me and ran out the door. I don't have a clue what to do. I'm hungry and I can't be worrying about you while both of us are trying to snag the same pair of…
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13152013
|
|
131543
|
You think about the first time you saw an axe
|
1315159
|
|
131561
|
Fucking buffalo, the curse of the writer.
|
131543
|
Until the ivy hides me in
|
131522
|
Starry, Starry Night
we slept, talked and did the nasty
where I, in innocence once
built a raft of driftwood
to take me twenty miles across
to the shore from which we ferried
escaping my Father’s demise
|
131542
|
He had thought of the walk down to Mrs Greensmith’s shop when he and all the men beside him reckoned they’d “had it” that time when II SS Panzer-Division had fought like gods for Hill 212.
|
131599
|
Some life in Rosco's walls. He listened with his dead wife Sonya's stethoscope: rustles and scratching, a collective heartbeat.“Vermin”, said Vlad, Rosco's neighbor. “Will take over if no kill.” He smiled with one tooth, urped some vodka. “I…
|
1315159
|
fat furry marmots who play hide and seek
|
131454
|
It turns out I know a thing or two about momentum. I know, I know. Like the crescendo of your bicycle wheels. Like the force the florist put on the stems the day Linda died. The way my fingers spin between planetary mass. This is how I know I’m not real
|
131433
|
And, you peasy-headed shrew, don’t you dare think I didn’t notice that it was you who stuck that fork into my neck in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot late Tuesday night . . .
|
131411
|
What? No, no, where did my world go? I was in the middle of… something. What's going on? What's stroking my face?
|
131494
|
|
131400
|
Crack open the roof-- raise the battery on a platform with chains
up into the lightning
|
13141614
|
One day we turn a corner, and two fat little doggies spot us and come running up. Oh, they are so glad to see us!
|
131420
|
Benton showed her his old room, a shrine of old posters and records. But it had been cleaned out, made to look like a guest room. “Kiss me,” Benton said. “April.” “That was just a name, so don't get any…
|
13141811
|
We can apprehend beauty only/
by framing it with the photographic/
paper’s edge or the novel’s margins/
and bookends.
|
131465
|
When I first started out in my working career, I made it the habit of obtaining jobs with companies that were about to go under. (I wrote more books while on unemployment than by any other method.) I was a real bloodhound at sniffing out the pre-dawn od
|
13141611
|
Once a student brought him a jar of black widow spiders. Tony put it on his desk. Somehow the jar got tipped over, and the spiders got out.
|
131486
|
Although I think we can easily work it out because we are not here in the Yale graduate school, and diction is the theme of the story. Diction is a choice in language.
|
1313114
|
He is leaning back against a pillar watching the dancing; a spectator to joy – both planned and spontaneous – that’s unfolding in bodies fourteen and fifteen years old in front of him.
|
131387
|
Co-workers have started calling him Jesus, Manson, Foghat, Doobie Brother, hippie, hipster, Grizzly Adams, Dude Lebowski... there’s really no end to it.
|
131351
|
Because he tells her to, she puts on a vintage Easter dress one size too small and sprawls in a circle of light on the dusty floor...
|
131333
|
Her funeral was scheduled for the following Monday, and of course Claudia would attend. Trouble was, Monday was a workday for my parents. So when neither Mother nor Claudia could find somebody else on short notice to keep me, it was decided that I would a
|
131351
|
His shirt, striped, fuzzy, is of fabric like velour and wreaks havoc with sunlight. His seat faces the aisle, I am sitting forward-faced across the aisle, we are on a half-full city bus, this afternoon.It is a funny shirt so I smile. I am not smiling because of…
|
131373
|
Where I went to college, you couldn’t swing a dead cat in a physics lab without hitting a Nobel laureate. I know–we tried. They finally made us stop–it wasn’t fair to the cat.
|
13131610
|
A figure left the building.
|
131397
|
500 miles
all the way from Omaha
nine hours
on the back of a flatbed truck
|
