1650 11 8
|
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…
|
1650 12 8
|
Trigger warning: casualties of war.
|
1650 11 8
|
He liked to take pictures of her, and she liked to pose. It made her horny, she said.
|
1650 12 11
|
|
1649 0 0
|
Jaume jumped up from the bar, a wide smile across his face. He hugged his old friend and planted a kiss on his wife's cheeks. He was buzzing from the chance encounter, marveling how life had brought them together after all these years. There had to be a r
|
1649 12 5
|
the memories return like they do every year at this time
|
1649 0 0
|
Her fever spreads through lines of a plaid mini, over burnt milk, darkened to yellow. Fingers explore fabric folds up and into the lost dimensions of logic.
|
1649 21 11
|
The lungs forsake their love of breath. The arms/
resist throwing off the small weight of sheets.
|
1649 16 10
|
A figure left the building.
|
1649 2 0
|
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…
|
1649 7 7
|
We are/no more than heartbeats on repeat.
|
1649 1 2
|
An yet we are all inmates...
|
1649 4 4
|
He keeps saying it,
babbles the term like he knows what it means
and we wince and interject with mama,
mama,
mama,
|
1649 2 1
|
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.
|
1649 20 12
|
The eyes, luminous and large-
each an infinite bright blue ocean
Wind ruffles feathers
My ego and vanity also/
encourage me not to wear a mask.
An aberration/
that general circumstances/
will remedy, and soon.
|
1649 13 7
|
Can we survive our Y chromosome?
|
1649 11 9
|
skin cancer
walks along Zuma beach
at noon
|
1649 5 4
|
Bill decided he hated his neighbors on a Sunday morning in June.
|
1648 8 4
|
(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) . . .
|
1648 14 11
|
I dream of benzene rings/
and polymer shrouds
|
1648 5 1
|
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…
|
1648 5 0
|
|
1648 6 5
|
I reach into my pocket for my keys and discover the cough drops Iput there a week ago have melted. Now my fingers are sticky. And I don’t have my keys.
|
1648 1 1
|
After years of unsustainable binge spending and a global economic semi-meltdown, most people have had to cut back on their expenses. Many folks are struggling to make do in this new and bewildering economy and we are all learning to live on our means, rather than beyond…
|
1648 3 2
|
“Hi. I’m Rita Bates,” I had said. “Can I sit here?
The boy who introduced himself as Thomas told me I could, so I did, and his friends all introduced themselves in turn. Around the table there was Bev, Ernest, someone whose name started with an F – maybe
|
1648 4 2
|
There was a small slanted hole through the edge of the door, and another one in the door frame. She pushed the door closed to check. The holes matched up.
|
1648 7 7
|
I can barely pick out the numbers on the houses
|
1648 8 8
|
-Love is a rushing
of blood
|
1648 18 11
|
For a few/
vivid weeks, deciduous shrubs and trees/
will seem to glow like flames and embers
|
1648 6 6
|
some days are
minotaur shit on your tongue/
smokestacks dumping acid rain on your already thinning hair
your eyelashes pinned in upside down, backward/you give wrong shaving directions to the mirror
|