1679 8 5
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It was by the well on one cold early spring morning
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167964
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Zinvushka Zokolovskaya and I first met at the local botanical garden.
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167970
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On the way to the drinking fountain, Elysia Martin, a third grader at St. Michael's Parochial School, heard a voice calling her name. When she turned toward the white plaster statue of the Virgin Mary that sat between twin hedges in the rose garden, she
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167900
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Sitting in the upper last row of Wyatt Hall, Matt stretched his long legs under the fold-up desk top. He looked down past his fellow students' heads to barely catch something Dr. Mock had said. . . .
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167922
|
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1679126
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Every morning, Wilma's husband Richard would cross the street and visit with a neighbor, always after the neighbor's husband left for work. Wilma was a loner, never bothered with neighbors. She enjoyed sitting on her patio in her lounge chair,…
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167900
|
Sir Reginald Lionel Windsworth described the match in Englishmen's Lahore Gazette as, "A plethora of mistakes and complete absence of human sense."
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167983
|
"I would like my pictures to look as if a human being had passed between them, like a snail, leaving a trail of the human presence, memory trace of past events, as the snail leaves its slime." Francis bacon “Feminine …
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167874
|
I wonder how many crumbs
he can drop to make a cookie,
whole, so I can relax a little
and throw out the self help books
about how I'm not right in
the motherfucking head,
|
167875
|
Why flash?because the moments, the moments, they pass in flashes of brilliancethat shudder, death glow alightand nothing makes sense beyond nowand nothing will help me but meand I am not even enoughnot my thoughts or your nod of assentor even the deep sigh of…
|
167820
|
I know you,
ladies and gentlemen
We see the near future
through you
Your factual face
as you sit indoors
Youthless
In your ordinary chair
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167800
|
I had enough judgment, anger and vengefulness from the people around me in the steel town of Pueblo, Colorado, where I was growing up. I didn’t need more from my God.
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167833
|
eleven o'clock spills
despair all over
our bedspread
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167811
|
Tension slipped from my grip on the dagger as my legs and faith fell apart.
|
16781711
|
Each little token is the world/
as you knew it at each time and place
|
167865
|
The heart attack felt like the time Alison stabbed me with knitting needles. It made me want to see her. She was the fun wife, the first of three. I was morbid and full of regret — my drinking had driven them away, no kids in the wake. I decided to visit all of…
|
167833
|
Her body: normal as a body, a baby’s body: skin and eyes.
|
167842
|
One summer night, as I walked alone down the cracked sidewalk of Kentucky underneath a canopy of maples where the moonlight fell through branches and lit my path with uneven lines I wondered: where does the residue of lust and desire go when everything you want to…
|
167886
|
My ex-girlfriends live in a pastel-drenched cabin on the edge of a hemlock forest in Canada somewhere,
|
16781412
|
You call your wife. “Do you see what I see?” you ask.
|
167865
|
She’s not coming today. She didn’t come yesterday either.
|
167832
|
He asked me if I was going to buy Valentine's for the office this year, and I shook my head. We were in the dollar store, February 13, and I could get a box of twenty kids' Valentines with last year's favourite cartoon…
|
167700
|
Alysia raised the staff over the huddle and together everyone created a barrier. The wind blew past them and the grey mist surrounded them.
|
167700
|
That was the summer that Christine Nelson owned me.
It felt like catching the flu. I had it bad. I was about to turn seven, and it was my first time, and it was bad. A love like that, I don’t know, it’s not a love supreme. It wasn’t completely cru
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167721
|
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167740
|
Holy shit, man, look at that!” Mike's pimply face melts into drooling bliss. His dad had stopped in this whacko town on the way to our campsite, muttered something about angry lesbians, and disappeared. Rick and I follow Mike's dumbstruck gaze to a shop…
|
167700
|
Late spring, summer before cancer. Frank drove Max and his pal Jason to Cincinnati for their first rock show. Less Than Jake at Bogart's. A two-hour drive for ska-punk.
|
167796
|
He brought me kisses from New York.
|
167760
|
We may not be capable of even trying to appreciate the fact of mortality until we are somewhat older—let's say 18 years old. But, from the age of 18 until we die—and die we will; we know that—we have the opportunity to spend some time thinking abou
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1677106
|
The trees would answer with a creak and a crackle.
Fall was near, a rotten apple.
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