1611 5 4
|
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 ...
|
1611154
|
This cell the sole certainty,
all else steeped in mystery.
Why should we be here?
|
161130
|
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…
|
161197
|
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…
|
161156
|
facts of matters are not as they seem,/hour by hour crafty comments creep in,/another hour and "the good" is a horror:/ our human blindness is older than our sight.
|
161154
|
Time has wings. They are bright and beautiful, like those of a butterfly. They are delicate wings, and they carry the years away from my decaying mind. I would break those wings if I could, for tomorrow I turn seventy-three, and I grow weary of their ince
|
1611158
|
What's that snitch doin' here?
|
1611126
|
a little bitter for the better
|
1611104
|
Come, bring your sadness
to the precipice of my body,
bury it within me like a tool
|
16111713
|
This year we have no need of spring!
|
161000
|
Rosey streaks through the city, dragging a flooded umbrella.
|
161066
|
A man who is sexually attracted to playground equipment was recently banned from “any location with a slide” after being caught having sex with one. Christopher Johnson, 46, was described by the newspaper who reported this item as having a “powerful…
|
1610158
|
Grasping for control over
social consciousness Because cigarettes are too deadly
and so is anorexia
|
161011
|
Tension slipped from my grip on the dagger as my legs and faith fell apart.
|
161031
|
Every damned time we came back to Richland County, I told JuneBug to just do whatever she had to do but to leave me and Skeeter out of it. And every goddamned time, we ended up somewhere like this, the two sisters hook-armed and conspiratorial, and Skeete
|
161086
|
My ex-girlfriends live in a pastel-drenched cabin on the edge of a hemlock forest in Canada somewhere,
|
16091210
|
of placing the rope just so; of settling
the veil with care --
|
160986
|
You speak English so well.
|
160931
|
The drapes are closed against the sunlight, but Ginny can feel someone in the room. She peers through barely open eyes so as not to let on she's awake. She adjusts her position in a way she hopes mimics sleep, turns her head to the side. A woman…
|
160953
|
She worked the research desk. Like most ladies before computers and cell-phones she lead a quiet conservative life. She wore dresses, spent time with family and friends...Emma also had been stricken as a child
|
160920
|
After three teens took off without paying
and he clung to the hood of their car
He wasn’t trying to be a hero
sandwich or otherwise
but climbed onto the hood when they
tried to run him over
There was some question and dispute
over th
|
1609127
|
The dog awakens at the sound of a petal falling, sure that barbarians are at the gate. She opens wide her yellow teeth.
|
160931
|
|
16091010
|
My lipline's retreated since Tuesday. I'll toss those Hazel Bishop reds, (lipstick on shriveled lips rattles men, scares little children) skip Woolworth's cosmetics counter, save backaching, ankleswelling pondering of powders, rouges, …
|
16091111
|
Vera Wang I saw you on Oprah today girl. Oh no no no.
|
1609156
|
As the other mammals go extinct,/
we can’t presume we are immune//
because of big brains and a history/
of belief in the control of nature.
|
160885
|
Remember when I entered a room and turned heads
is my youthful charm a sputtering fire in the hearth
|
1608125
|
the memories return like they do every year at this time
|
16082312
|
The skin will stay but you won’t see it,/
camouflaged by creases, tags, and curious/
deposits of renegade fat and pigment.
|
160861
|
The unpublished writer remembered the carnage that surrounded his Foxhole in France and decided he was done praying. All around lay the evidence that no one was listening. The drunken pastor stumbled away.
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