1772 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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17721110
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Over his usual ham sandwich and Pepsi for lunch Uncle Waldo used to often say, “Going out in the dead of night without a flashlight is dangerous” and I'd nod but I kept slipping out, sneaking down my secret path and take a dip in the rich neighbor's pool because…
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177276
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She crossed the room to a tub in the center, the great woman with flowing locks of bronze, turning the taps until a heatless white became warm enough to bathe in. She added soap of some kind and the light became the bubbles,…
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1772105
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"Some Purgatory in order, innit?"
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177252
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The last time I saw Jackson, I didn’t write down the set list. This time I didn’t write down the set list, either.
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177200
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And the ocean was black and green and blue—as your dress that clung to your body’s curve. Round as the bend of the water trailing the false line of the shore.
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177142
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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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1771115
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I enjoyed the talking part though
rambling on and on for lord knows
why or how
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177140
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I’m not the creative type like my friend Bosely, an Irish Setter. I’m a traditionalist. I like to eat exactly at 8:30 a.m. and 6 p.m. I take my bone with me everywhere I go. I will not carry the poop-bag.
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17711512
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Effie reckons the river her sister keeps asking about, the Great Pee Dee, was named after some Indians.
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177122
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you are the most uptight pansy I have ever met
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1771147
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We flew./
In my dreams, I can fly.
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177100
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I took up smoking just to show the world how easy it was to quit. It’s been five months now, and my wife is wondering why I haven’t yet.
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177199
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Our Irish tradition is rich in Yeats, drenched in Bushmills.
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177120
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The more indifferent he had become towards life, the more she had become towards him.
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17712311
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177111
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By: Roz Warren (and Janet Golden)I'm a humor writer. My work appears in publications from The Funny Times to The New York Times. Janet is a history professor whose writing was confined to academic journals and the occasional op-ed. Driving back from the Jersey shore one…
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177185
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When the cab dropped Frank at his address at seven that evening, he noticed the lights were on in Michiko’s apartment.
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17711714
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It shouldn’t take that long to count/
to six but when the six are cats, arithmetic/
assumes Heisenbergian properties/
as the objects counted defy the count.
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177087
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177050
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the moon is the pupil of the cave’s eye
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177042
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Take shelter from the rain inside the Museum of Sex.
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177052
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Yesterday morning I sank to the depths of hell and barely crawled out in time. There is no answer except possibly death that will find me relief from his distant presence. I am free but yet I am not and I slowly sink into a hollow world where nothing hurt
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17701613
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There is no hate in his eyes...
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177000
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I wear my gun so it shows,
so everyone knows.
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177000
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The place turns out to have a really nice ambiance, and while the pasta is only passable—though I ordered, I believe, the cheapest plate on the menu, so maybe I got what I deserved—the background dinner music playing is "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" by Wilco.
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177077
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can they approve, our/gods in our wallets? only/when we tell them to.
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177041
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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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1770158
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What's that snitch doin' here?
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177020
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Joseph K. ran a publishing house in the shadow of the Castle.
Perhaps “publishing house” is too grand a title. Joseph K. kept a battery of six or seven (depending on repairs) manual typewriters, a crate of carbon paper, and a large stapling machine
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