1492 4 3
|
Don't throw earth on bones.
|
1492138
|
She bought a dog with short legs to make her own legs look longer.
|
149230
|
His mother named him Far because she had high hopes for him
|
149200
|
Like some beautiful yet macabre puppet, she was suspended on strings of wire, painstakingly threaded tubing flowing into her cavities, through her chambers, around her mechanics.
|
149232
|
Hope was beauty before I even knew what beauty was with her golden pigtails, brilliant blue eyes and an infectious smile — even after Jamie Delano flung his Frisbee, knocking out Hope’s two front teeth.
|
149111
|
Background
foreground
life in the middle
|
149111
|
A procession of our somber youth—
stoned and stunned and
broken beyond repair—viewed
the boy carved of putty.
The mortician painted him
stuffed him, presented him
to us, the semi-living.
|
149163
|
N-n-never screamscold a cat.
|
149144
|
He keeps saying it,
babbles the term like he knows what it means
and we wince and interject with mama,
mama,
mama,
|
149142
|
How hard it is to pretend to be someone else. Alone, together, in the silence... I thought about how you must really like me to act quite like that. I wanted to hold your hand and read the unsent love letters.
|
149112
|
I have no confidence that you'll complete the task. Shit, you probably don't even understand it in the slightest.
|
1491105
|
Walter met Danial at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. They didn't have much in common at first, other than AA, with Walter on the recovery side of treatment and Danial reluctantly just beginning.
|
14911212
|
a poem about things exploding/burning down/scattering for miles.
|
1491136
|
She’s changed leaves to emeralds. Worn a shawl of inked birds’ wings.
|
149154
|
|
14911410
|
In those years,
you and I were told to leap
for a world suffused with sound
and industry.
|
149177
|
They blew in the doorway of the café at the French Hotel like two sparrows chasing each other. Their wings down in the dust, unheeding any danger in their hunger for each other. I knew the man who was about to become her husband, so maybe this was her las
|
149161
|
I was quite alone in this small room with the tarp and the dying fire.
|
149172
|
I must have been six years old at that time, but the events of…
|
149132
|
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?
|
149032
|
... and the train pulls up and my shadow from yesterday steps off, and I'm standing on one leg balancing just like the weather between winter and spring, I hear a siren and my heart races, I'm about to step aboard when I hear footsteps behind me and two hands cover my eyes…
|
1490178
|
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 . . .
|
149051
|
I have a tablet called, The Shit List...
|
149020
|
A shot in the dark and everything goes black. It's as if the story never happened.
|
149065
|
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.
|
149032
|
“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
|
149098
|
When our kids were very young, my wife and I believed it was important to give our children traditions that they could grow up with. One such tradition that we shared each Thanksgiving was to walk down by the cliffs along the ocean. We'd all go, our kids…
|
149000
|
Sitting in the upper last row of Wyatt Hall, Matt stretched his long legs under the fold-up desk top. He looked down past his fellow students' heads to barely catch something Dr. Mock had said. . . .
|
1490125
|
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…
|
149043
|
The snow buzzes in the Ritalin air beneath Dairy Queen clouds
|
