1633 13 11
|
I stomped up the steps clearing my shoes of snow. I was wearing my Rooskie fur hat with the ear flaps, and I kept it on when I went inside.
|
1633103
|
Occasionally I will pick up a quarterly—
As a budding poet, to do what I oughterly,
And peruse the pages for helpful examples
That I can crib or use as samples.
|
163366
|
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
|
1633198
|
A proper study of human history should
lead the student to an inescapable desire
to commit suicide
|
163386
|
My wife tells me/your dog has vomited/
on the carpet AGAIN!
|
163310
|
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
|
163321
|
He finished the omelet and started in on the short stack. He drowned the cakes in syrup.
-Never can have enough syrup.
|
1633128
|
Trigger warning: casualties of war.
|
163301
|
She overcomes herself on the day of the spectacle, clown paint, unmoving amid a rumble of trains and screens, video logs and snapshots, live blogs from phones wet with lotion. This is Tokyo. Facial masks. Bare flaking paint in streams. Stardust.
|
163200
|
“There goes that slut Kerri Stanton,” the immense woman behind the counter chuckled to her patron. “Who the hell does she think she is?”
|
163287
|
graves left or graves lost, into silence death sinks:/it's leaving the living that leaves us such pain.
|
163243
|
I'd never seen a dead person before, let alone one that was living just
seconds earlier.
|
163276
|
“Now we lay you in your grave
There was no way you could be saved
You hate our lord Jesus and he can tell
Which is why you will burn in hell.”
|
1632177
|
a song jolts my memory . . .
|
163288
|
-Love is a rushing
of blood
|
163200
|
Over the stained fence the spectres flew and that is where the rain was turning colder and colder in the time when the trees had become mostly bare.
|
163254
|
We were wild, medieval magpies,
sweaty and sweet and selfish; and so much more
than we were before I lit that first stick of spice,
|
163200
|
|
163220
|
Summer nights in Boston, old cast iron streetlights.
|
163280
|
|
163277
|
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…
|
163297
|
I want to tell you things you do not know.
|
163261
|
I was quite alone in this small room with the tarp and the dying fire.
|
163271
|
My mother was Irish as Paddy's pig. So all her family. Lovely people they were. Also, seldom seen among the Folk; stone cold sober. My father's family; Bavarian German. Bavaria's the wrong side of the German tracks. Frankfort people laugh at Bavarians as people in…
|
163254
|
...listening to the ache of errs our mouths had become.
|
163100
|
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
|
1631175
|
I'm old enough to be her father.
|
163152
|
Send me a secret story in a song just for me
|
1631106
|
She is face down in the snow
|
163145
|
The last time Cyrus rode in a train’s passenger car, he came home a dead man.
|
