1707 6 3
|
i thirst always
for that poetic mouthful
|
170751
|
His shirt, striped, fuzzy, is of fabric like velour and wreaks havoc with sunlight. His seat faces the aisle, I am sitting forward-faced across the aisle, we are on a half-full city bus, this afternoon.It is a funny shirt so I smile. I am not smiling because of…
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170781
|
The dowdy woman in fart nailed the vim.
|
17071310
|
Sin by Nonnie Augustine After my mother died, I met Aunt Shirley. I found her in dozens of snapshots piled in falling apart cardboard boxes we hauled down from the attic. Small girls, with huge bows bobby-pinned right on top of…
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17071916
|
severe snow storm coming. I'm looking for a parking spot and listening to Machito & Charlie Parker
|
170721
|
Ug seemed kinda down in the dumps so, uncharacteristically for a male hominid, I asked him why he looked so glum.
“Ug no find nice girl,” he said, poking a stick in the dirt.
|
170793
|
You looked like someone I didn't want to know. I guess that's why I got in the car that night. My penchant for self-destruction was aroused by your black nail polish and the lavender circles under your eyes. You looked like someone that could hurt me, yeah, that's why I got…
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170740
|
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…
|
17071613
|
He'd hung above her head for months.
|
170711
|
Tension slipped from my grip on the dagger as my legs and faith fell apart.
|
170786
|
My ex-girlfriends live in a pastel-drenched cabin on the edge of a hemlock forest in Canada somewhere,
|
170789
|
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
|
170653
|
All I wanted to know was: Am I coming close? You could have given me a clue. How was I to know how deep the scar ran? I always thought scars were superficial, but I was young, and willing – what did I know?
What would they have done if they had come
|
170674
|
God damn you women get me all /
twisted up thinking oohrahrah and lala
|
170677
|
Content may contain ordinary, everyday, and all around average happenings.
|
170610
|
"My tits, " she instructed "aren't for public consumption".Everything was actually muffled and my ears began to bleed because of how progressively louder the thumping was in the center of my chest. Stacy decided to emphasize her point of disliking the objectification…
|
170688
|
-Love is a rushing
of blood
|
170654
|
My old buddy Snoop Dogg saunters into the room, and we go through a handshake routine that takes over ten minutes, ending with double-backflips and some brotherly penis swordplay.
|
170600
|
Over the stained fence the spectres flew and that is where the rain was turning colder and colder in the time when the trees had become mostly bare.
|
170622
|
He just had to tell somebody. Anybody.
So he called up his publisher, L., who agreed to meet him at Oliveira’s for a drink. It only took about ten minutes to walk there from his big duplex in the Elmwood, where he was still living with his wife among
|
170611
|
The bathing suits are like Christmas dresses.
|
1706104
|
"Nice one, sir," the toilet said.
|
170555
|
I guess you’re gone now
That’s okay
I guess I can live with my own ghosts
I had no idea
What it meant
But now I do
It meant I was standing
At the end of everything
And did not know it
|
170563
|
"...easier to get milk from a male tiger than mercy from him."
|
170576
|
you might as well be blind
|
170577
|
We are/no more than heartbeats on repeat.
|
17051210
|
The kid with a testosterone chip
Instead of a brain
|
170570
|
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
|
170572
|
"Penning a slight of tongue well versed
or worse, a salacious lie..."
|
1705104
|
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…
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