1609 6 4
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Zinvushka Zokolovskaya and I first met at the local botanical garden.
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160966
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israeli flares light gaza/ casting incandescent nudity/ upon jumbled puzzle piece buildings.
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160900
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Rosea plays a bohemian plainsong for the cosmonauts among us, while her fuzzy apple hips spit glitter, spin strobes: pink shades of pantyline flicker; lip-licked neon hues scrape strings in B sharp, a gloomy clue.
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160988
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“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…
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16081911
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Girl with glasses and
skinny fingers
playing with wires
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160821
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"For several days thinking they had found a dead man’s boot beside the highway..."
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160821
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She picked the fish out of the box leaving a pool of mucus and blood slowly congealing on the shelf and dripped it toward the kitchen table. Outside the wind lashed the tops of the poplar trees together and rain sprayed from the barn roof opposite.
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160821
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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.
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160877
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The whole thing is broken. It's like an egg. I'm not saying this to get you to say something else in the sunny opposite direction of the tattooed scar upon my painted backyard scene. I don't really care. It's only on me. Not on you. I'm glad as…
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16082011
|
The nearsighted world/
puts on its lenses
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160811
|
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.
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160822
|
...you should pick a VERY OLD millionaire. Very old, and NOT VERY WELL...
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160820
|
Contemporary persecution of Christians takes on milder forms of torture like having to explain away something Pat Robertson said, or constantly having to hear about Fred Phelps picketing funerals because he happens to hate homosexuals.
|
160800
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I'm subconsciously a sucker for guys who are no good for my
self-esteem. Or waistline.
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1608104
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"Nice one, sir," the toilet said.
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160832
|
Harold Smithe awoke that Tuesday morning precisely at 6 am. He did this every day for as long as he could remember. Even on the weekends when his schedule varied. Well, varied slightly. He lay in bed trying to wake up and mulled over the things he needed to accomplish for…
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160811
|
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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160832
|
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?
|
160896
|
Everyone loves a story of love
unrequited.
But what about the stories
of the unrequited lovee?
|
160830
|
Chapter one I was sitting in the doctor's office. For weeks, my nerves had been on edge, and I had been feeling like he was going to have a nervous breakdown. I needed the help of a professional. It was hard for me to admit this. I was taught that a man handled…
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16072112
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We lie sleepless at night, enraged,/
and finger the keyboard
|
160700
|
“Jesus Christ!” the man screams in pain, and a chorus of “Ewww” is heard from the girls' bench, where the severed body part has landed in a Yoplait strawberry yogurt.
|
160731
|
|
160798
|
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…
|
160775
|
If the Titanic rises from the bottom of the sea,
I will meet you on deck, in a deck chair.
Fully dressed for a change.
|
160744
|
I try to enjoy my bookbut the mannequins keep tapping at the windowWhen I look up they vanish Outsidefibreglass clouds are kept in placeby invisible wires——Sometimes the mannequins …
|
160722
|
Not to sound too ridiculous, but Hurt was giving me the hurt, and it felt good.
|
160753
|
Twenty-two tornadoes tore through Toronto, spiraling steel and stone to the streets where she stood, texting her best friend.
|
160774
|
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.
|
160721
|
He repeated these six words like a prayer. His only confession.
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