1650 0 0
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...the fatal bleeding-out of the love receptors. They call it “Juliet's Tears.”
|
1650910
|
it's time for the cold, antiseptic
cloth to briskly remove the evidence.
|
165042
|
I was raised in a big city in the slow South. I know a little about cross cultural dining and where Delta Blues collides with Sly Stone, Al Green, and Zeppelin. Dirty rice in the Dirty South. Fried chicken, collards, and pintos. Fried velveeta…
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165011
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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…
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165033
|
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.
|
165055
|
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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165000
|
I'm subconsciously a sucker for guys who are no good for my
self-esteem. Or waistline.
|
1650106
|
The trees would answer with a creak and a crackle.
Fall was near, a rotten apple.
|
164953
|
For reasons he couldn't fathom, his motorcycle only moved in reverse. He engaged the engine and lurched backward hard. He called a friend, a gear-head with perpetually dirty nails, asked him to look it over.
|
164996
|
THIS is what happened — the dead went into remission. Dated may 10 2010. Or it could have been some other day. They were going to be restored later. That's what we were being told. The dead were being given stones to mark their remission. They were getting…
|
164983
|
the sound of ashes/ being poured in the kitchen
|
164963
|
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.
|
164945
|
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.
|
164932
|
The night we broke into Bron-yr-Aur it was too cold to make love. I said I wasn't horny anyway. You put your hand on my forehead: Are you ill?
|
16491412
|
You call your wife. “Do you see what I see?” you ask.
|
164920
|
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…
|
164943
|
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16491112
|
Regrets lined behind him like crossties on a railroad track.
|
164866
|
some answers are enough to make you cry or laugh yourself to death
|
164870
|
I heard this story from my grandmother who heard it from her grandmother who heard it from an uncle, who was a monkey.
|
1648126
|
"Every generation is a new generation, isn't it? What's so different about your generation?"
|
164810
|
He first saw her stepping off a water taxi by the Long Docks in the rain at night, her right arm atrophied from some early childhood disease, dangling like an apology, her other holding a cigarette. Her wet black hair hung past her shoulders and her eyes
|
164853
|
She worked the research desk. Like most ladies before computers and cell-phones she lead a quiet conservative life. She wore dresses, spent time with family and friends...Emma also had been stricken as a child
|
164800
|
Under the darkness of their new city. The heave and moan of structures as they breathed and pulsed. Under the darkness of this city, under the hum of their florescent bulbs and the tumbling rattle of motorcars, the wheeze of their machines and the clank o
|
16481716
|
saw the world was a mess
I did nothing about it, poured myself some apple juice
|
164888
|
that doesn't need any words to arrive fully formed, or too many words to be believed in at all I should say, a little something we can simply send back and forth across your time and my space without having to talk at length about it, but being a …
|
164822
|
...you should pick a VERY OLD millionaire. Very old, and NOT VERY WELL...
|
164874
|
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.
|
1648124
|
Xanax, A hand gun, And the courage to pull the trigger
|
1648127
|
strung from her window to a tree
|
