1518 5 1
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Two summers later, the ritual began. Carol left her house at midnight, having served her husband and daughter a heavy dinner that left them caged in their sleep. She was like a thief working in reverse: she rose from bed with her husband’s first snore,
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151744
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A tough enough signal to read under the best of meteoric circumstances, this is one maybe I'll keep on thinking about. I might be able to make something everlasting out of this crazy price for love after all. I no longer…
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1517115
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I enjoyed the talking part though
rambling on and on for lord knows
why or how
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151755
|
I got an email notification that your relationship status had changed to Single...
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151700
|
Coagulating sky, a turbulentheave of orange, blood red,hell's fire smeared —below, tar seas bulgeat the seams, engulfing ships.Pier-bound she streaksand wails as the seaswells and threatens to claim —, corpse head, baldeyes, her death robescling to…
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151700
|
Sora rubbed her neck as Azure gave her attention. She did not know where to begin, thinking about what to say first.
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1517138
|
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151755
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Vibrations of a cavern a mile beneath silver willows.At two in the morning beyond the Sheratona lumination of pollution intercedes realism.Cardinals and doves develop their melodyprogressively caught in beat/heart echoes,as with spelunker canaries fluting noxious gasa small…
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1517106
|
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1517167
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It's time, more than anything
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1517126
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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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151763
|
“I'm thinking about math class,” she said. “The solution to three factorial.”
“Easy,” Leo said.
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151710
|
This must never get out in the press, for it would cause widespread panic. The priests would surround my house, not to mention the police and possibly the army. Castor Desayuno has come back from the dead!
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151741
|
A tanka/haiku poem about grandma getting run over by a reindeer.
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151711
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On an overcast and humid day in August, Jesus—with Dad’s permission, of course—decided to make his grand return.
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151730
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You’ve known her since grade school and even though you’ve never copped a feel, it gave you a strange chill when you heard boys talking about her breasts, pressing against madras or chamois with some devilish life force, or how one day she’ll fuck l
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151611
|
"Shit," said the Charge Nurse. "Not again."
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1516107
|
|
151656
|
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.
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15161910
|
Falling//
is something that comes quite naturally/
to puffed up things. Like the soufflé
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151622
|
There’s a crack in the cosmos,
and pink is leaking through.
There’s a crack in the cosmos,
fix the sink, the toilet leak.
There are many cracks in the cosmos,
numerous. This is how time escapes.
Good grief, they’re going to suck the cream
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151665
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Going to the candy store at night in the section of town called Kalliope. Riding bike, trying to get there before it closed at ten. Getting candy at that little store with the glass containers and the rows and rows of candy. Getting milk there…
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151566
|
“When I was six years old, Dad came home from Vietnam and picked me and Mama up from her sister's house in Boston. We packed a U-Haul with everything we owned from T.V. to toothbrush. Dad hitched the trailer to the Rambler and drove us South, back home to Carolina. A…
|
151500
|
Sora collapsed on the wall to Azure’s squeals. She felt her arm lifted up and placed around Azure’s shoulder.
|
1515179
|
Shakespeare had red hair / Van Gogh never painted a nude
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151562
|
Eddie meets Sarah Packard, a “college girl” played by Piper Laurie. She walks with a limp, a fact Eddie doesn’t notice at first because she’s sitting down at a diner table in a bus station. She’s alcoholic and writes poetry.
|
151500
|
You and I will never meet. You will never even know I existed. Even in dreams you will never imagine me. Someone told me once that your sleeping mind cannot conjure up new faces. It just spits out all the ones you’ve ever seen and that’s it. That’s it.
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151545
|
. . . it's all we ever want -- the holding.
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1515177
|
a song jolts my memory . . .
|
1515910
|
it's time for the cold, antiseptic
cloth to briskly remove the evidence.
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