1740 12 12
|
I picked out a book to read on the airplane. The title was The Function of the Orgasm by Wilhelm Reich.
|
174041
|
In closing, Your Honor:After the interview Bad Blake, a/k/a "Otis" takes "Miss" Jane Craddock back to his hotel, ties her up, and gives her a Cleveland Steamer. For reference, please refer to my Brief, Exhibit A, showing a thespian named Ronald Jeremy…
|
174022
|
“You own your own burial plot, but you don't own your home,” he'd said, and I couldn't help but agree.
|
1740117
|
Lucky for mama, he doesn't like for his women to work.
|
174040
|
"As the thing lurches upright, I can see now that it is an old woman with snake eyes… a dead old woman with snake eyes and peeling flesh. She is putrid and maggoty. She is coming right at us. She is my mother."
|
173963
|
The camera moves slowly around the interior of a building inhabited by books.
|
173944
|
Moore doubted, perhaps, that readers could sympathize with a man who had killed someone for a cause or a girlfriend who forgave him. Perhaps she felt that maiming is (not) worse than murder. Perhaps she decided that the story should be about that.
|
173911
|
writing because it's the only drug i havesick on sadnessas the weight of the moment crumbling around me comes down some sweet second inspires…
|
1739106
|
If you're a Boomer, your brain is teaming with decades-old Pop tunes that you just can't forget. The real reason you can never remember where you put your keys? Too many of your brain cells are clinging to every last lyric to “Fire and Rain,” “Free…
|
1739127
|
The dog awakens at the sound of a petal falling, sure that barbarians are at the gate. She opens wide her yellow teeth.
|
1739121
|
. . . hot sand and quiet ocean only.
|
173930
|
You see the ocean for the first time on our honeymoon. Your large feet dig deep into the muddy sands of the Maryland coastline as your blue eyes swell at the infinite water before you. I wrap my…
|
173942
|
when down the street/ a female cat/ yowls with the force/ of a red light blazing/ in an alley.
|
1739138
|
|
1739134
|
her skin the color of honey sugary sweet eyes like long-forgotten pathways to a place I can only just recall her hair in twists and her hands touching it fondling it tucking it back behind her ears as she rubs her legs against each other crosses them at…
|
173964
|
I blame the fucking mosquito net.
|
173921
|
Blood had soaked through his Converse All-Stars, and into his cotton sox. It was the smell of metal, of iron more specifically, that nudged his mind out from the fog of shock and denial, closer to the reality of his circumstances.
|
173944
|
Then dared each other to travel
Much further
|
173921
|
Bake sweet rolls and make love to your new wife, fall asleep for three years and grow a beard.
|
173996
|
He brought me kisses from New York.
|
1738116
|
You treat them like I’m hungry.
Fix it.
|
17381711
|
When he got out of sick bay, they moved him into a room with three other alkies. A kid, a tree trimmer, and a Catholic priest.
|
173844
|
I call him a Staffordshire terrier. You call him a pit bull. Some people say he's lovable. Other people say he'll bite your face off without thinking too hard.
|
173885
|
“Hey, Buddy,” he says finally, “you were supposed to make a right back there”, and I can see his eyes flash as he reads my ID card on the dash...
|
173822
|
He was just walking along, making sure that no white, Hispanic, Native American or Asian people were doing anything illegal when he noticed the young black man walking down the street.
He hadn't meant to.
|
173872
|
She had liked her new husband's sternness, and the way he ran his hands over her body, noticed every inch of it, made her feel not invisible.He traveled during the week, wore cufflinks, worked out in hotel gyms. On the weekends, they redecorated her house and tried to…
|
173862
|
Her fingers scampered over the table, practicing the deft stitching of the basilar artery.
|
173880
|
I remember the man well, though he didn't notice me.Even though a million tiny things happened to cause his hand to brush me away from his neck, he didn't notice. Much like the way his eyes bounced off women's bodies as he hurried down the sidewalk in his blue wool…
|
1738104
|
Lapping salt beads from/
my crackling, ecstatic lips.
|
17371211
|
and watch the bird play and squirrel play/
and the twitching of cottontail noses
|
