1469 9 5
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The instant you remember
gratitude
with enough focus to spring free its power...
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146997
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MOSAIC Your eyes coal-rimmed, busted, burned by betrayal. You and I, knee to knuckle, skinny with disorders and blurred around our edges. Challenged by our experience and the ash of past-love dusting the grate, the state, the…
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146962
|
Chubby. Plump. Pudgy. Portly. Bulky. Buxom. Rotund. Ample. Hefty. Corpulent. Zaftig.
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146931
|
I’m secretly hoping for a huge bouquet, a fruit basket, a pickle jar of urine in a lunch bag on my doorstep, even.
|
146976
|
In the panic following news of my motorcycle crash, my honey fled the house without coat or wallet, and now, nearly midnight, we don’t even have cab fare home.
|
14691713
|
This year we have no need of spring!
|
1468172
|
You can tend to recognise the difference between a good and mediocre mind by observing how each reacts to a misfired original idea.The mediocre mind will praise the merely meretricious, but ignore the more interesting bad art. The higher mind will value the misfired…
|
146896
|
Soon everyone will know what is coming.You cast a spell of heaviness and I crumple, horizontal. Like Aurora, sleep is my destiny.Tantalus in reverse, my curse from food forever I will flee, while everything changes;discomfort and…
|
146843
|
Don't throw earth on bones.
|
14682311
|
|
146821
|
He repeated these six words like a prayer. His only confession.
|
1468126
|
a little bitter for the better
|
146842
|
|
146811
|
He had a handsome dial tone, we called him every name but his.
|
14682113
|
The virtuoso tortures a violin/
in homage to Paganini.
|
146844
|
“Gladys Miller!” the dog shouted. “Live a little. TiVo it.”
|
146770
|
I heard this story from my grandmother who heard it from her grandmother who heard it from an uncle, who was a monkey.
|
146777
|
It's important to make a sure sound. It's not impossible you know. It's just funny I suppose, like being in a dream of another dream. All these things could be mashed and tumbled together to make us one big clay hero, someone…
|
146711
|
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
|
1467178
|
When I was young and self-born in religion my aunts, uninterested in being washed in the Blood of Christ, called me Preacher Boy. I didn't pay them any attention. It was fine by me, I said, if they wanted to sit around and paint their toenails . . .
|
146701
|
[This story definitely WON'T be appearing in this month's "Alfred Hitchock's Mystery Magazine"!]
|
146755
|
beat them with fists and purses.
|
146765
|
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…
|
14671810
|
At some point, indifference//
will swallow the small gasps./
The appalling will become the norm.
|
146711
|
Puddles—not his real name, as you’ve probably gathered, but the kind of nickname a fat kid got tagged with in our neighborhood—kept stopping short, picking underwear out of his ass or taking a breather. This had the unfortunate byproduct of my crashing in
|
146733
|
By February, I had decided,
That you'd tear out my throat every morning
if it meant your favorite song would play from my neck.
|
146711
|
Later, your father stared, confused, at the empty spot where the wall paint layers ended in the shape of the old machines. He stopped coming in.
|
14671010
|
|
146753
|
Twenty-two tornadoes tore through Toronto, spiraling steel and stone to the streets where she stood, texting her best friend.
|
146700
|
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