1660 8 3
|
the sound of ashes/ being poured in the kitchen
|
166065
|
So few dreams are the doors they seem.
|
166051
|
"Good, it's Link Wray again,"
|
16602011
|
The nearsighted world/
puts on its lenses
|
166055
|
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…
|
166011
|
When we started plans for the party, none of us wanted Larry to die, most of all Larry himself.
Actually, when we first started plans for the party, Larry wasn’t dying.
|
166074
|
Food is silly. Eating is silly. Yet the camaraderie of sharing a table is not silly. It is sacred. It becomes silly when the jello arrives.
|
166063
|
Another bird hits the large plate glass patio doors as I am sipping my morning coffee.
|
166085
|
Marv felt a stirring. Warmth in his gut. "Maybe we should get together," Marv said.
|
165987
|
graves left or graves lost, into silence death sinks:/it's leaving the living that leaves us such pain.
|
165910
|
“Well” I say. “What do you think about the dilemma of a guy who’s tortured by a history of incest and bondage?”
“Depends” Says Al. “On who was cested and who was bonded.
|
1659106
|
If you're a Boomer, your brain is teaming with decades-old Pop tunes that you just can't forget. The real reason you can never remember where you put your keys? Too many of your brain cells are clinging to every last lyric to “Fire and Rain,” “Free…
|
165931
|
|
16591010
|
My lipline's retreated since Tuesday. I'll toss those Hazel Bishop reds, (lipstick on shriveled lips rattles men, scares little children) skip Woolworth's cosmetics counter, save backaching, ankleswelling pondering of powders, rouges, …
|
165963
|
A week ago, Lina had felt a pain crack over her right eyebrow. It was there every day, creeping from her ear to the middle of her forehead.
|
165933
|
By February, I had decided,
That you'd tear out my throat every morning
if it meant your favorite song would play from my neck.
|
165953
|
Twenty-two tornadoes tore through Toronto, spiraling steel and stone to the streets where she stood, texting her best friend.
|
165945
|
Lawrence Light had two degrees: business and theology. I liked the clean font he chose for his resume. At the interview, his face was open. His eyes were bright.
|
165900
|
There were echoes all around them, their shadows delirious and only existed in short spurts under the breath of the streetlights. They danced as their cigarettes leaked calligraphy across the night sky and she tried to trace it with her finger. He asked her what it said…
|
165920
|
In traffic I cry bloody murder, but my bloodlust subsides once I'm in Valhalla. Chip Whitehead wants to see me on the 22nd floor before I start my shift. Charlie and the other suits have been looking at me funny since I sent Chip a memo suggesting the recession…
|
16591112
|
Regrets lined behind him like crossties on a railroad track.
|
165920
|
He gave her cancer. He gave her cancer.
Not what she said. She said her relationship gave her cancer. Her relationship with him. Gave her cancer.
|
165864
|
We became The World Famous Shadow Puppet Theater because we thought that the best way to become world famous was to act as though we already were.
|
165876
|
In human rights, a man and a woman may marry and bring forth a family. It is a civil right in the U.S. but not a human right (as far as I know) to raise a child singly without the knowledge of the other parent.
|
165881
|
The dowdy woman in fart nailed the vim.
|
165800
|
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
|
165800
|
...the fatal bleeding-out of the love receptors. They call it “Juliet's Tears.”
|
165843
|
Shadows from a star
Never too close
Never too far
|
165865
|
Cézanne sags during a moment of paint. There is an umbrella in the room whose surface collects his thoughts. Outside, in the rain, the grass and garden smell strongly of spring. Fruit litters the table. Light through the window writhes in conversation with shape and…
|
165761
|
You look at people
and despise them all.
|
