1572 8 2
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Liszt, Piano Sonata in B minor. I don't like it but I can't stop listening. It doesn't fit my mood, or the high plains landscape, or the early evening, pink and blue, pastel colored sky.
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157242
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“I wrote a story about you today.”
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1572104
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Jasmine as skeined skins… of liquid hers, by willow courts, the lychee's water wains: as apple-moats flush fawn in russet light, through cherry floats, the leopard-dots of dawn. Branch to branchlet green …
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1572117
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No bustling inside
No extruded amber
Wings onyx straight jackets
A low hum of displeasure.
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157243
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Out where they grow the miles
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15712411
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157141
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"Now, here daddy was on the back porch at night talking with some man about leaving."
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157173
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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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1571109
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Take a bird down from the sky, just for a moment, it endears you to me. Find a raindrop in the pouring rain, it is a jewel beyond compare, unless you Are directly in possession of it. Drop it. There is a star that I cannot help seeing In the…
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1571106
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She is face down in the snow
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1571121
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. . . hot sand and quiet ocean only.
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1571139
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Stalks were scythed to submission one stroke at a time
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157120
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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…
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15711313
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Of course then I did it all over again. Got married, that is. Fortunately, this one worked out.
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157122
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157120
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“Little Pig, Little Pig, Let me in.” One of them yelled out from behind the door. The wolves always loved to taunt him, itched for any chance they could get to fight.
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15711616
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She’s witnessed her mother’s terror on the day of the hurricane, and she demanded for the first time in her life that her mother do something her mother did not want to do.
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1571108
|
The next time I see you, I’m going to pretend you’re a stranger, and that I’m meeting you for the first time.
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15712012
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Our ironies don’t make us happy
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157023
|
My husband waits for him to hurt himself.
The boy drinks red wine between movements,
Staring hypnotically at the back
Of a girl’s head.
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157022
|
The old man had always known things, was feared and revered up and down the valley for knowing things. I’d heard the stories since the day I was born.
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157023
|
Where in the shadows of these raw streets
does love last longer than a flyer?
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1570209
|
feeling empty as the
bottom of a bottle
dry as a bone
in death valley alone
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157054
|
facts are facets are / things in the act // the truth speaks softly // as time saying amber / to the enduring sap // words come and go / like leaves like men // we the tree remain ...
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157011
|
From above we see the trampled grass circling the house. Trampled grass from where half starved alligators circled the house, hissing and issuing low moans. Half starved alligators deranged by the red skies circled the house in the late August of the last year. Beginning in…
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15701313
|
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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157000
|
They screened the thousands of mosquitoes that hatched, and found a few carrying the botox transgene. In a few months time, several billion mosquitoes had been bred, ready for release. Now to wait for that diplomatic flashpoint, when war could be declared
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157051
|
Two weeks after the shadow shows up in Stephen's x-ray, you decide to do something about the bucket in the garden. You start by wedging it underneath the faucet in the back yard so tightly that it pushes against the pipe with the groan of grinding metal. Now the hose is…
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15701920
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It was a pleasant time, my thoughts were mostly good ones, with little effort wasted on regret.
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157010
|
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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