1620 2 2
|
Not to sound too ridiculous, but Hurt was giving me the hurt, and it felt good.
|
162042
|
|
16201211
|
|
16191010
|
As if to ask if I'm okay, as if to ask aren't we the same two on this wet December morning as ever, as yesterday, a month ago even, she shoots me a look as I stand by the bed, then her sane mild brown eyes…
|
161984
|
(the vast preponderance of dark matter and dark energy discernible in these latter days begins to suggest just how dark the humor of existence is) . . .
|
16191411
|
I dream of benzene rings/
and polymer shrouds
|
161951
|
His shirt, striped, fuzzy, is of fabric like velour and wreaks havoc with sunlight. His seat faces the aisle, I am sitting forward-faced across the aisle, we are on a half-full city bus, this afternoon.It is a funny shirt so I smile. I am not smiling because of…
|
16191210
|
The kid with a testosterone chip
Instead of a brain
|
161900
|
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
|
161983
|
the sound of ashes/ being poured in the kitchen
|
161944
|
He keeps saying it,
babbles the term like he knows what it means
and we wince and interject with mama,
mama,
mama,
|
1619117
|
Except with the language I was born to./
Occasionally, with painters and collagists-//
dead now, typically- who can’t voice/
opposition to my misappropriations.
|
161911
|
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.
|
161920
|
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.
|
1619109
|
What grabbed the mind when you heard about it was the way he did it.
|
161921
|
They had a deal, she reminded him. If he didn’t want to wear a condom all the time, he’d have to help with her birth control.
|
161800
|
“Would you look at that one!” my father said.
“Who did she know?” my mother asked.
“Who did she blow?” my father said loudly, and burst out laughing. I laughed too, although I didn't know why.
My mother shot him one
|
1618175
|
I'm old enough to be her father.
|
161820
|
The wind blows off the ocean soft and cool. I close my eyes in hopes to strengthen my sense of touch. A bit of sand wriggles through my teeth; crunchy and salty like spoiled oven-roasted peanuts. I imagine the air would smell like low tide if it wasn't constantly…
|
161854
|
Published writers will tell you that the most important thing you can do as a beginning writer is to know your markets! So this month, we'll talk about two of the markets open to you and your riveting but as yet unpublished prose -- Fling Magazine and Clubhouse…
|
161844
|
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 …
|
161877
|
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…
|
161810
|
Even when the sun is gone and things get dark, usually the moon comes to reflect some light of hope until a new dawn can emerge
|
161854
|
...listening to the ache of errs our mouths had become.
|
161862
|
Sometimes one person's shelter is another person's storm.
|
161862
|
Chubby. Plump. Pudgy. Portly. Bulky. Buxom. Rotund. Ample. Hefty. Corpulent. Zaftig.
|
161774
|
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,
|
161745
|
Paulette lived on the east side on Paulette Avenue. Mama dropped me off when we wanted to play Barbies. Her neighborhood was a little green lily pad in a swamp of blight and disrepair. A ghetto moat ringed around those three fancy blocks like a first line of defense,…
|
161753
|
All I wanted to know was: Am I coming close? You could have given me a clue. How was I to know how deep the scar ran? I always thought scars were superficial, but I was young, and willing – what did I know?
What would they have done if they had come
|
161786
|
remembering Cahokia, a place we rent near the water's edge, for we dare not enter
|
