1655 13 8
|
She bought a dog with short legs to make her own legs look longer.
|
165522
|
Not to sound too ridiculous, but Hurt was giving me the hurt, and it felt good.
|
1655134
|
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…
|
165577
|
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…
|
165575
|
Beneath an opal moon, the open field and wilderness across it look immersed in varying shades of blue. A strong night howler blows across a little girl's face as she walks the field as if in a trance; her whole visage framed against the backdrop of this very act …
|
1655115
|
“I’m tired, Art” The Virgin said. She was already curled up beside their dog,
Lance.
|
1655118
|
He liked to take pictures of her, and she liked to pose. It made her horny, she said.
|
165532
|
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?
|
165554
|
Bill decided he hated his neighbors on a Sunday morning in June.
|
165400
|
Mayumi could see as far as her eyes could, all the buildings hugged by the trees. Roads stretching outward as if reaching for something far away.
|
165455
|
I guess you’re gone now
That’s okay
I guess I can live with my own ghosts
I had no idea
What it meant
But now I do
It meant I was standing
At the end of everything
And did not know it
|
165433
|
|
1654127
|
In time, I will forgethow he said "smooshie" for "smoothie"and "eyebrowns" for "eyebrows,"how his upper lip dimpled when he laughedin that uproarious, wild toddler way.How he wheedled to be wrapped and rocked,after a bath, even at age five,his long calves uncovered by…
|
1654109
|
Polylinguists lash me
with tongues I cannot conjugate
|
16542111
|
The lungs forsake their love of breath. The arms/
resist throwing off the small weight of sheets.
|
165477
|
I can barely pick out the numbers on the houses
|
165421
|
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.
|
1654125
|
I walked along the beach today, and there I saw them all; including the latest lost: little Tiven, Tommy, Michaela & my Paul. Grandma painted at her easel, set upon the dune. Uncle Eddie bent in half, laughing like a loon, Oliver growled…
|
1654198
|
A proper study of human history should
lead the student to an inescapable desire
to commit suicide
|
165488
|
that doesn't need any words to arrive fully formed, or too many words to be believed in at all I should say, a little something we can simply send back and forth across your time and my space without having to talk at length about it, but being a …
|
165400
|
|
1654137
|
Can we survive our Y chromosome?
|
165496
|
Everyone loves a story of love
unrequited.
But what about the stories
of the unrequited lovee?
|
165465
|
I got on the Greyhound Bus at 11 a.m. and sat by myself staring out the window. I could see the reflection of my own dark beard in the window, a 27 year-old man with a huge poem bursting my heart, gasping to get out into the bright lit-up world out there,
|
165494
|
I It's been there all week, Nose tucked into tail Comfort found between impact and asphalt II I'm still here logged out, still here Had it with the billboards the check engine light milemarkers... Just…
|
165300
|
“There goes that slut Kerri Stanton,” the immense woman behind the counter chuckled to her patron. “Who the hell does she think she is?”
|
1653125
|
the memories return like they do every year at this time
|
16531411
|
I dream of benzene rings/
and polymer shrouds
|
165374
|
There is a rock somewhere with the truth of the sky in it, the glitter of otherworldly charms that falsify the ugliness of the literal.
|
165320
|
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…
|
