1697 8 6
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I haven’t read many of them, these poets
that they speak of – Whitman and his Leaves
Of Grass, Mary Oliver and her wild life
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169720
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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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169799
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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…
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1697117
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... he led what might be called a quiet life
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169773
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The surroundings, he thought, are just as important as what's surrounded.
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169742
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“I wrote a story about you today.”
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169797
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In half-dreams she saw a pale alchemist kneeling before a stitched together abomination, witchcraft and science merged, mocking God’s fire.
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169754
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When we were young and small we played in the orchard. Mom made apple pies and fried apples, caramel apples and apple sauce, apple cider. Grandma’s apple butter recipe.
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169686
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You lazy fuckwit! You half-assed shithead!
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169655
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In my seriousness I am not making the case that none of “this” (our contemporaneity, our historical moment) “matters”.
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169673
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-for Franz, the least understood comedian of all We all knew that Marissa's college boyfriend was ugly — there was the way she answered our mother's pestering "Is he cute?" with a stalling "Um, well..." and then there was the fact that she hadn't posted any photos…
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169643
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Nancy's brother, Ronnie would wait until church was out and pull the bench up to the piano play and sing show tunes, even humming them loudly if he didn't remember the lyric. Crooning away — as if he had the lead in a Broadway musical. Well, that was part of it,…
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1696117
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He got tired of the pool party, the chit-chat, the suburban posturing, and he decided to swim home.
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169686
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...this dim and empty room, and behind a wall of glass a flag materialized, backlit and fluttering, and I am not saying what country's flag it was, just that it was a flag, that awesome symbol of the nation state and fervid jingoism...
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1696106
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They couldn’t have done it better if they’d waved guns around in the air.
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1696148
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...painted by my mother with meticulous attention...
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1696159
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1696119
|
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169684
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I had to kill someone today. Do not be alarmed, she was only real to me.
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16962012
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I say her- it might be him-/
but from a distance I supply the details I prefer.
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1695147
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Bones consolidate with age. The fleshy/
bits of body follow by wrinkling and/
spreading outward, appearing to expand.
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169565
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You load the pipe and suck in the fireworks. Whistling missiles, slithering sparks, shivering teases, dripping embers. You fall asleep with flashing neon outside and the Fourth of July in your veins. When you wake up, your room is the saddest place o
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169576
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They broke both of Jimmy's shins. / Gambling debt just like in the movies
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1695138
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the / future is now incomplete
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169572
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A man asleep on a stack of tires in front of a tire shop on 10th Aveune, NYC.
A store that’s “open 25 hrs,” where apparently time is being manufactured.
The unknown new element, the 25th hour, even though the other 24 may have been shortened som
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16951313
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Let's walk through this park. We can talk until dark. You have the look of a wolf. I'm not stupid, Jack. I'm a lamb, you'll see, once you get to know me. That tat is fierce and your leathers tight black. My ink is old and black suits me, I'm told. …
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169530
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“Jerome always came to play with ideas. It was like he was already thinking about it before we started. I loved his ideas. It caused me to think about it as well. We did variations on a theme and there was always a goal. Sometimes it was to grow and deliv
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16952311
|
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1695104
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Digging in another garden, jumping into another space and time, I impaled a toad on the tines of a garden fork. At first I thought the toad was a clump of clay, stuck to the thick tine, but before I could kick the clay off with my…
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169510
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The old man’s face is worn and tired, his nose and cheeks tinted red over his pale black skin from the frosty January winds blustering through town. He looks more than half frozen, which I don’t find surprising.
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