1678 1 1
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i killed a poetic boy yesterday. the old ladies in theshadows swore at him when he was walking home proud ashell with a new pocketknife. they told him we dienext week so laugh like you got limes for balls. hecalled them drippy old vultures in his native tongue.they didn't…
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167832
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Not a fuss, not a stink,
The eulogy, deep, will make one think,
Grandmother, sat in back, will wink
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167895
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I brimmed with sexual energy and it flowed about me like a buttermilk, silk robe. Rich and thick, musk-laden and fortified with my own particular brand of woman.
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167863
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After work and wine, I Take some red food coloring and empty it Into my bath water. I submerge myself and open my eyes Like looking backwards at the world through A liquid sunset. I push myself under water, squeaking Feet…
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16782315
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I am long of tooth, too, and when I go, maybe a box with my ashes inside will join the boxes containing the cats’ remains.
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167755
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He ran for home, screaming for help in the silent ravine.
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167741
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Andrew smiled at her while he pulled out his penis. He then held it between his fingers and tugged at it, stretching it much like a rubber band
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16771411
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I visited the grave of Rimbaud. / It was pale blue
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1677155
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"when I say bag, what I mean to say is…"
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167621
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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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16761310
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Uncounted hens and piglets/
die at my demand. The killing floor//
runs red for me. I am/
monstrous to creatures small and great,
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167645
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On Soapography, two actresses are discussing
everyone’s personal heaven, and in another room
you can hear a woman who is your dead mother
combing her hair in a doctor’s smock in a dream,
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167656
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in our teens as tough as the cold/we wore denim and flannel with our boots/kicking at whichever wind blew . . .
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167698
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When the storm broke, my late aunt's dog
fetched five favourite bones from his corner, and arranged a crude protective circle.
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167633
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You were sitting on dark leather meringue, wearing slit ivy, epilated thighs sliding through, roots showing beneath your anaemic skin, fighting with the pale bluegreen of your veins. Quills extended from your left hand, bent about 10.2 degrees or so.
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167675
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When you encounter a body laying on the road, drive over it.
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167631
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“We should start a virgins' support group,” said Cindi one autumn afternoon. We were sitting in the bay window of the Campus Coffee Cavern ...
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16751112
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The shop is swarming with little women.
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167595
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Parsimony, Sage Advice, Alimony, and Time.
That would be one.
The Waste Land. The Hollow Men. The Red Wheelbarrow.
There are others,
But I have definite shoe anxiety dreams and can’t get over them.
Do not Go Gently Into That Good Night. Alone
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167532
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One night he woke up with Underdog laying next to him, breathing softly. He marveled at how fiction could make reality so much better.
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167521
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Sweet Tooth needed a little snack, so he ambled on down the hall to the kitchen. He figured to make one of his patented peanut butter, potato chip, tangerine, raisin, and banana sandwiches because those things just always hit the spot. Unfortunately, when he tugged the…
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167511
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The dog was there before Vera was there, so she supposed she couldn't hate it too much. It wasn't like she had to live with the thing, either, though she might as well have hosted it in her ear for the eight months it took that particular batch of neighbo
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1675118
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8) An exercise online calls for the first sentence on page 45 of the book nearest you as a suggested description of your love life. The book 9) nearest me still is _The Quarterly_, 1, spring 1987, that I have on my desk in preparing to write an essay.
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167544
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He looks at me again, this time glancing down at my skinny jeans, “And... are you a single mom?” he seems to think he has it right, taking a last look at my aquamarine colored pants and the tapered area around my calves.
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167563
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If he had not just decapitated a chicken, he was a man I could have loved.
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167521
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“What would you get? What should you give a lady who’s one hundred for her birthday?”
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167521
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Two days before Christmas 1946, my mother put me on an Illinois Central railroad train at the whistle stop of Neoga, Illinois.
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167596
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One frozen hand protruded from the snow.
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167521
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The car has been parked there for slightly more than a day now, and nothing has occurred—there’s nothing “unusual,” nothing “amiss.” Except that it’s there, still, as he follows his boys to school.
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167500
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woke up to the sound of a diesel
looked out the window to see i’m not home
outta bed to see if you had called
not a damn thing on my phone
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