1453 6 3
|
Morning's first blush, their world in repose. Sated, drained, spent; …
|
145387
|
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.
|
145311
|
Margie sprayed the gift with her most expensive perfume and tucked it into her sweater’s front pocket. This way she could hold it close to her on the subway, so no one would see the pretty wrapping and try to snatch it from her
|
145365
|
I dragged you that last half mile Me such a slip of a thing, one bite mark visible You the bear, your growl now only audible When you furred from kerb to road to kerb The December snow followed us Dragging Christmas red behind you As I ignored my…
|
145344
|
The only silver lining? The man in my life and I are in this together.
|
145310
|
“Now I see clearly my whole life is pointed in one direction — there never has been any choice for me (Travis Bickle, "Taxi Driver").
|
145300
|
Sitting in the upper last row of Wyatt Hall, Matt stretched his long legs under the fold-up desk top. He looked down past his fellow students' heads to barely catch something Dr. Mock had said. . . .
|
145364
|
A sunrise over the dark Atlantic, on a perfect beach day, tasting of salt and warmth and powdered sugar; of last, desperate kisses of youth, still shivering from delicious night, is beautiful.A sunrise over the dark ruins of Syria, on hot dusted stones, tasting of lament…
|
145376
|
Regime is elected officials ignoring constituents, ignoring protestors, ignoring history
|
1453118
|
None of this is real, he says, and the path slopes down to a house that is possibly haunted. One always looks in such windows, one cannot not look at the predictable detritus of another's failure, a queer satisfaction, a fairy's dust. But no, not real, none of it. And…
|
145332
|
KOSHER PORN is a new collection of funny pick-up lines just for Jews, written by humorist Sarah Rosen, and illustrated with photos by Tom Stokes. It's based on Rosen's popular dating blog, Porn4Jews. And it's hilarious. Rosen started her blog after a year and a…
|
145321
|
He repeated these six words like a prayer. His only confession.
|
145344
|
“Gladys Miller!” the dog shouted. “Live a little. TiVo it.”
|
145334
|
Carl’s peculiarity of toilet paper rolls is not covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act – he’s looked it up.
|
14531112
|
Regrets lined behind him like crossties on a railroad track.
|
145364
|
But I had learned from ingesting Roberto’s glitter-eyed fear, it could make you never close enough, and then, never far enough away. And both at the same time.
|
145211
|
Then he took the tune out to Ben Clarone land. The horn was beautiful, if leaky. His fingers flew over the keys.
|
145221
|
Naked Lady? I know that from somewhere. Then he remembered. That's what they called those old 1930's and 40's Conn saxophones, Naked Ladies. How would Smith know that?
|
145299
|
People usually take fonts for granted.
|
145211
|
1. Poor grammar does not sleep. 2. We'll never finish every idea we have. 3. No matter how hard you try, you still might make it into my book
|
145241
|
@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; } …
|
145200
|
When we talked about the lasagna, we were, I see now, talking about different things. I.e., I was talking about lasagna, and you were talking about almost everything but. You weren't talking about the dry, burnt noodles or…
|
145282
|
The ocean smelled like decomposed plant life and clinically despicable vagina, but I still spoke of its power and my fear of it in moonlit clichés and she still listened.
|
145270
|
He came running out of his narrow little shop, Berthillon
and chased me down the Ilse St. Louis street, saying,
“Monsieur, Monsieur, nous avon pamplemousse!
It’s ici, Monsieur. Your pamplemousse.
They just come in this matin, morning
and I’
|
145275
|
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.
|
145242
|
It's 6:45 a.m. A gritty, mundane sort of magic pervades the air at "Valentine’s" in the Hamilton Hotel.
|
1452104
|
I hold them to the light...
|
1452136
|
It wasn't so much the softness of the bed that kept her from sleep, or the pungent bleach-scent of the unfamiliar sheets, but the lack of her clock's familiar tick, tick, tick. Or was it a missing heartbeat? Awake, she watched his chest. On the table, an empty pill …
|
145243
|
Don't throw earth on bones.
|
145222
|
Not to sound too ridiculous, but Hurt was giving me the hurt, and it felt good.
|
