1716 8 5
|
On the river he rows a dory. It is filling with water. There is a rectangular hole in the bottom.
|
171600
|
Some things you never forget, especially if they are repeated frequently. I cannot hear her voice saying those words, now, I have forgotten its timber, its pitch, but I remember the words.
|
171653
|
The porous bear the anchorite’s vial
|
1716166
|
Warning: contains sexually suggestive comments.
|
171654
|
an EZ How to Guide in 50 simple steps
|
171641
|
Rye goods
* Cracker brot: best practices
* Recipes: never embellish!
* Boughten: what to avoid
|
171611
|
The last row of furniture is all black leather. In unison the tigers hop onto a couch a piece, sit calmly on their haunches, and reach for remote controls buried in the cushions. Roaring, they paw at the remotes.
|
171667
|
The last night, I shivered in bed until three a.m.,
the blankets wouldn’t work,
or the socks,
or my tears,
but I reassured my heart
that my next love would be warmer.
He was.
And our air conditioning bill was so high we could’t afford it.
|
171620
|
You don't know what it's like to be in the bed as a child and feel the air of fall enter your room and hear the dishes in the cabinets of your home rattle, their doors slammed by some drunk looking for a fresh bottle of liquor. The cool air sweeps over you like…
|
171643
|
Out where they grow the miles
|
171585
|
Remember when I entered a room and turned heads
is my youthful charm a sputtering fire in the hearth
|
1715129
|
How to Boil Water
How to Cook an Egg
How to Eat
How to Think
How to Love
How to Die
|
1715127
|
The dog awakens at the sound of a petal falling, sure that barbarians are at the gate. She opens wide her yellow teeth.
|
171597
|
It's about dinner time. My neighborhood is in Sa-bur-bia. Driving my gold 2007 Malibu i pass Chick. She notices me and stares standing in front of her house. We were friends about ten years ago. Chick is still divorced. Tall skinny legs. Educated blu-ish eyes. Wet…
|
171575
|
...a headwater stream that has never had a name....
|
171530
|
My sadistic doctor was the only one laughing . Yes sir, I was officially, cordially, confirmed to meet that Irish/ Russian fellow…Colon Oscopy.
|
171522
|
I am heading to work. It's early and Clare is still asleep. When I hit the breezeway I realize that I forgot my keys. I walk back into the house and start rustling through the junk on the table by the door. After a moment I sense someone standing behind me and…
|
171544
|
Then dared each other to travel
Much further
|
171500
|
Home is where my parents live and my relatives visit.
|
1715104
|
Lapping salt beads from/
my crackling, ecstatic lips.
|
1715126
|
It's 100 degrees in your tower/and that braid you're so proud of/is one hot ladder to nowhere.
|
17152113
|
The virtuoso tortures a violin/
in homage to Paganini.
|
17151711
|
maybe a day in deep winter
|
17151912
|
I was to limp with stunned, growing horror, as I navigated through the swirling smoke and maze of human corpses...
|
171521
|
She pictured the President leaving the hospital a few days later, hobbling on a cane. Jackie beside him, Caroline and John-John dashing from a waiting limousine. He couldn’t die. She’d looked into his eyes. John F. Kennedy spoke to her.
|
171444
|
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.
|
171455
|
F.B.I. then or: "I said later 'for a boob job' and imagined her, a public lawyer, wandering Arizona on foot unable to hide a Playboy-Mansion style rack."
|
171431
|
Writer Marion Winik has ridiculously bad taste in men. She's an intelligent woman and a terrific writer, a good mom with a good heart, and ALL of her romantic relationships are train wrecks.Winik recounts her quest for love at age 50 in her new book, “Highs In The Low…
|
17141211
|
and watch the bird play and squirrel play/
and the twitching of cottontail noses
|
171421
|
Librarians love me,
you want to know why?
I don’t dog-ear pages,
I don’t even try.
|
