1200 1 0
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I thought I would write a poemAbout a saguaro trying to please God The saguaro would spend a hundred yearsGrowing an arm and offering flowers in its fist —God barely notices. The saguaro flowers a crown for God.More arms. God then loses his patience…
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120030
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my molars are dancing, tekka-tekking to the strung-out paint can groove of my heart.
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1200128
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Trigger warning: casualties of war.
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120010
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"So" he started, which troubled me enough to turn back around and make such focused eye contact that I did not even notice his glass was again full, "you wanted to talk?"
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12001714
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He was a liability. I knew I had to ditch him.
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120000
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It is suddenly very cold. Mon opens his eye. He sees fog, the ground. A skeletal tree. Where am I? he thinks. ... Mon listens. He can hear distant noises through the fog: laughter, …
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12001311
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Enough, Trump. We've had it my dear, with your pink ties, your hairs, your swagger, your towers, your money, tempers, walls, bombs, smarts, snarls, pouts and doubts, bigotty bile, and once again, style. We just…
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1199116
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The time has come
to scrape the wax from my menorah.
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119963
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Ellen decided to soft-pedal the one month to live thing. Really, there was barely time for the patient to read Ellen's brochure.
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119920
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The bearded old man, raised his weary body from the bedroll he had slept on last night and slowly stood up. Bones creaked as he worked the stiffness out of his joints, the pain and memory of endless days and nights riding the…
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119984
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(the vast preponderance of dark matter and dark energy discernible in these latter days begins to suggest just how dark the humor of existence is) . . .
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119932
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“Hi. I’m Rita Bates,” I had said. “Can I sit here?
The boy who introduced himself as Thomas told me I could, so I did, and his friends all introduced themselves in turn. Around the table there was Bev, Ernest, someone whose name started with an F – maybe
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11991311
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My books wound you. They wound me / too.
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119900
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"Did I have a dream, or did the dream have me?" - Rush, "Nocturne"
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119932
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Von Meckel had us all go out and paint this huge red square around the Red Diaper Baby factory. Then he held a big naming rally, at noon, during our lunch break. We weren’t allowed to eat our sandwiches. There was all this pomp and circumstance. We were
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119922
|
“I’m pregnant,” he says...
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1199115
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His grandmother's recipe called for the pasta dough to be beaten with a bone--and not just any bone either. It had to be a human femur. This was his first hurdle. Where would he get such a thing at this hour in this part of town? Or, for that matter, at any…
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1199109
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Margaret will take her seven away from his raging Irish hammers slurry Saturday night honks smashing red eyes. They'll board a secret train countryside bound where they sing the songs of her own dead Mam who lived poor in the world but…
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119983
|
I was talking to this famous female artist
at the reception, (as if I knew anything,)
“If you want to be taken as a serious artist now,
you have to have one long serious eyebrow.”
There was no reaction. So, I said:
“Also, you should kn
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1199146
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There are lines//
across time, beyond the tug/
of elections and fashion,/
beyond the turbulence of history
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119944
|
She couldn’t help but wonder what 93 year-old Sohrabjee looked for in the torn, dusty lithograph of Marilyn in Persia one of the orderlies had stuck to the wall of the corridor outside Jasmine Wing decades ago.
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119965
|
Remember when we went to New York to take our test? We looked for cheap hotels near the test site, and there was the "Hotel Earle." Twelve bucks a night. The clerk behind bullet-proof glass, smiling a knowing smile. Pubes still on the sheets, but we couldn't sleep anyway,…
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1199148
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119921
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"That zit on your forehead just won't go away, will it, sweetie?" she adds as she brushes her daughter's bangs downward.
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119965
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I was low on carburetor / oxygen and my fraud protection / had just expired.
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119897
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We didn't know him from Adam...
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11981410
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I think he viewed Communion as an act of hygiene that allowed him to go on being fiery and self-determined.
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119855
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The first time I saw Little Man was on a bright, hot afternoon near the end of November, when the trains had just pulled into the fair grounds and the familiar smell of upturned turf and sun-basked animals returned to Sarasota.
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119861
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I’m trying to get this said, this piece of fact. If I am a person who can own something, then that something that I own is not me, not me as a person. I do not own my foot, my foot is my own. It’s like a whatsit, a semantic distinction I’m trying to
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119832
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"Why, before the summer has passed
You won’t remember her name. . ."
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