1633 10 7
|
In her blanched beauty, seated in a silver deck chair, with complacent socialist ways
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163344
|
She wakes up with rosemary.
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163244
|
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.
|
163245
|
. . . it's all we ever want -- the holding.
|
163265
|
So few dreams are the doors they seem.
|
163298
|
It is true that the college dogs spread vermin, reeked and shat on the soccer field...
|
163244
|
I considered kissing Christian. It wouldn’t be terrible. I mean, it might be terrible, but it wouldn’t be awful. His teeth were a little crooked but he didn’t smell or anything.
|
163297
|
As they lay in the pasture on a warm summer's afternoon, with the sky blue, the sun shining, he looked across at her, peacefully asleep by his side. How he loved her. Their year together had been one of joy and happiness.He idly nibbled on a blade of grass, remembering the…
|
1632104
|
A Parody of Keats I stood at silent thought upon a clump Of nettles, swaying in the od'rous air- That blew from my own trousers, by the dump; That it had not blown more lent me despair. The dulcet horn gave melody, rare…
|
163222
|
What becomes the identity of a woman who has been denied all her rights and thrown into a mental institution?
|
163242
|
Something was changing.
We could sense it in the circling air. A loss of stillness - and we'd been still for so long.
|
163211
|
We begged him to sell us some shade. Just enough for half an hour, until our bus would pick us up and drive us to our next destination, continuing what was turning out to be a purgatory tour of forgotten Mediterranean towns.
|
163176
|
The pristine Hudson's/waters dance in the dark of/the East River's rinse.
|
163111
|
1. The sparrows' heads revolve slowly when you press the red button, but the boxing glove attachments don't work.2. A weird weaving of voices, unmusical harmony. One phrase punctures the texture: “The empty slot.”3. Poems are processed into more useful verbal…
|
163153
|
"and I turned to you, at some joke we shared,
and saw winter ease its hand,"
|
16311212
|
a poem about things exploding/burning down/scattering for miles.
|
1631167
|
It's time, more than anything
|
163133
|
Her body: normal as a body, a baby’s body: skin and eyes.
|
163189
|
I’m deathly afraid of the pub crawls
of my ancestors, through Bohemia and Fitzrovia
because of the ghosts of alcohol already
etched inside my veins
and the headlong loss of oxygen
|
163132
|
Harold Smithe awoke that Tuesday morning precisely at 6 am. He did this every day for as long as he could remember. Even on the weekends when his schedule varied. Well, varied slightly. He lay in bed trying to wake up and mulled over the things he needed to accomplish for…
|
163121
|
My wife storms into the kitchen with a pink mako shark slung over her shoulder, barking "Dinner!" towards me as I sit on the counter swishing my middle finger through a bowl of sand.
|
163140
|
"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."
|
163130
|
Chapter one I was sitting in the doctor's office. For weeks, my nerves had been on edge, and I had been feeling like he was going to have a nervous breakdown. I needed the help of a professional. It was hard for me to admit this. I was taught that a man handled…
|
16311112
|
Tunnel hobos, all hootched up high, think a sign's all about super powers, mind reading, clairvoyance, dig?
|
163011
|
A procession of our somber youth—
stoned and stunned and
broken beyond repair—viewed
the boy carved of putty.
The mortician painted him
stuffed him, presented him
to us, the semi-living.
|
1630172
|
You can tend to recognise the difference between a good and mediocre mind by observing how each reacts to a misfired original idea.The mediocre mind will praise the merely meretricious, but ignore the more interesting bad art. The higher mind will value the misfired…
|
163076
|
Where horses once were tethered grows their grass . . .
|
163042
|
There was a small slanted hole through the edge of the door, and another one in the door frame. She pushed the door closed to check. The holes matched up.
|
1630910
|
it's time for the cold, antiseptic
cloth to briskly remove the evidence.
|
163041
|
In mid dream, mid journey, there's a barrier we must cross, flat and vast like an ocean. We're told the barrier is a monster. To cross the barrier we must maim one of its eyes. There, rising to the surface is half a large…
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