1634 7 7
|
As spilled on a sandy Corona del Mar beach/both in moonlight and starlight so lovely/and strangely sad as if receding still
|
1634134
|
Jane says to Roy, “What are you doing, Roy?”“Fuck off, Jane, I'm reading,” says Roy.“Well you could have just said so.”“I did.”“I mean just without—”“Yeah, well fuck off anyway.”“I've had…
|
1634124
|
Xanax, A hand gun, And the courage to pull the trigger
|
163421
|
Boys start fires all the time— it's a rite of passage— so when your father gives you the task of setting fire to the family's trash, you don't mind, and when the flames ignite inside the old dishwasher he heaved into the woods behind the house, you…
|
1634104
|
"Nice one, sir," the toilet said.
|
163442
|
Something was changing.
We could sense it in the circling air. A loss of stillness - and we'd been still for so long.
|
1634127
|
Foolish boy, you chose
your parents poorly-
|
16341412
|
You call your wife. “Do you see what I see?” you ask.
|
16341112
|
Regrets lined behind him like crossties on a railroad track.
|
163370
|
I heard this story from my grandmother who heard it from her grandmother who heard it from an uncle, who was a monkey.
|
163374
|
I wonder how many crumbs
he can drop to make a cookie,
whole, so I can relax a little
and throw out the self help books
about how I'm not right in
the motherfucking head,
|
163310
|
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
|
1633106
|
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…
|
163374
|
He calls it an owl glass: he’s allowed: he’s six.
|
163393
|
5 Narratives From The Field Museum (Naturally) 1. The American wife asked her French husband why it took him 50 words to ask which pass they would need. He said, “Because it does,” and they argued more, each in their own words. 2. The child…
|
163300
|
...the fatal bleeding-out of the love receptors. They call it “Juliet's Tears.”
|
16331716
|
saw the world was a mess
I did nothing about it, poured myself some apple juice
|
163388
|
“I won't live here,” Beth said, waving her hand to indicate the small Southern town in which they were having dinner—the most delicious fried chicken either of them had ever tasted—in a restaurant located in an antebellum mansion. She looked…
|
163200
|
Sora collapsed on the wall to Azure’s squeals. She felt her arm lifted up and placed around Azure’s shoulder.
|
1632126
|
"Every generation is a new generation, isn't it? What's so different about your generation?"
|
163242
|
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.
|
163265
|
The clarinet and the accordion are brothers, I see. Big, fat men with curly, klezmer hair.
|
163298
|
When our kids were very young, my wife and I believed it was important to give our children traditions that they could grow up with. One such tradition that we shared each Thanksgiving was to walk down by the cliffs along the ocean. We'd all go, our kids…
|
163242
|
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…
|
163253
|
She came to my house late that last night and shucked off her things and we slow-danced to Cruisin' as beaded rainwater slid off her black hair to the floor. She smiled an almost quizzical smile as she drank me there with her eyes, as if I was some…
|
163233
|
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.
|
163255
|
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…
|
163211
|
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.
|
163245
|
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.
|
163200
|
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…
|
