1511 7 4
|
I was just sitting in the corner, stirring my stories with a straw that sucked characters out of bars.
|
151165
|
I wake up on the edge of the mattress, teetering. The dog is looking at me funny.
|
151132
|
He took the car out into the middle of Nowhere, Mexico, and drove it at top speed, off-road for a day and a night. I am talking strut-breaking, axle-wrecking, wheel-bending, paint-peeling conditions and balls-to-the-wall, testosterone-drunk driving.
|
1511217
|
Once, asked what time it was, M. replied, "Eternity."
|
151177
|
You've been given some really cruel thoughts that are not your own.You've been given some really stupid sets of rules which are impossibleto follow. You can learn to manage for yourself. Remember who youwere before they told you who you were. You've been trainedsince birth…
|
151131
|
It was cloudy, the way he liked it -- no baking in the sun. People passed occasionally. He sniffed at the joggers, “Health Nuts,” he dubbed them. He hadn’t exercised since his last high school gym class.
|
151132
|
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…
|
151163
|
Another bird hits the large plate glass patio doors as I am sipping my morning coffee.
|
1511117
|
Lucky for mama, he doesn't like for his women to work.
|
151070
|
I heard this story from my grandmother who heard it from her grandmother who heard it from an uncle, who was a monkey.
|
151082
|
Marge bought the rug on-line.
|
151041
|
On the way home, “Friendly honk,” he said.
|
151053
|
Little mercy, ten fingers, ten toes.
|
151011
|
Directions: Match the stanza to the Beat icon:
A. William S. Burroughs
B. Peter Orlovsky
C. Jack Kerouac
D. Carl Solomon
E. Allen Ginsberg
F. Neal Cassidy
|
151087
|
You are an heiress to drunks.
The statues of your forefathers stagger,
memorialized by gravity, their faces
half-lit eternally, as they reach into refrigerators
for another something
to keep away the cold empty.
|
1510116
|
A pinprick breaks the black/
and pins the spin of constellations/
around its still point.
|
151093
|
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…
|
151020
|
|
151040
|
"Dennis," she started "exactly what the fuck are you looking at?"
"Your tits" I replied.
|
151099
|
not every punishment proceeds / without a hitch
|
151000
|
Like some beautiful yet macabre puppet, she was suspended on strings of wire, painstakingly threaded tubing flowing into her cavities, through her chambers, around her mechanics.
|
151000
|
Gon found himself slowing behind everyone. His wings slowly tired. The bird took a chance and pulled up. He could feel it behind him.
|
151033
|
|
150943
|
Except for the bathroom stalls—you know the one that goes “Here I sit all broken-hearted”—the only poetry in the house is composed by Hazel, recited to her fawning sycophants.
|
15091510
|
No jagged bits of crust were thrust up/
through the prairie’s black gumbo/
to give us cataclysmic mountain views.
|
150900
|
“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.
|
150911
|
Barbie wore only her clear pink heels...
|
150901
|
Dear Butterfly, Are you there ? Wherever there is ? Are you there, crossing your feet on top of each other, sipping your coffee while observing the sky from behind those cat-eye glasses of yours ? 3 days, 8 months and 11 years. That's exactly how long since the last time…
|
150920
|
On the plains there are no cliffs, no vast mountain ranges to persuade us that we were somewhere above the world. Yearning to escape the pull of the Earth was the big dream of a plains boy…
|
150976
|
Where horses once were tethered grows their grass . . .
|
