1703 2 0
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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…
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170300
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"You've fallen out of love with me, is that it? That you'll leave me for another girl, who has bigger boobs and fucks you better than I do."
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170322
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Light “I can escape the feeling of complicity in it only by speaking out.” The professor arrives on time, sockless. The former a sign of his polite upbringing. The latter, his lack of pretense and high …
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1703149
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Each day, they trot the coiffed/
and painted cadavers across the stage.
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1703138
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She bought a dog with short legs to make her own legs look longer.
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170377
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The whole thing is broken. It's like an egg. I'm not saying this to get you to say something else in the sunny opposite direction of the tattooed scar upon my painted backyard scene. I don't really care. It's only on me. Not on you. I'm glad as…
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170311
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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.
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170311
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Un consejo esconde un futuro desastre. Es como si Mar le dijese a Desierto "amigo...impresionante. Dejate elevar por la atracción de Luna y verás". Y Desierto le replicase "está bien, y tú Mar, deja que Viento lleve tus olas hasta el nacimiento de los ríos, es brutal". …
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170311
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The waves assisted in pushing him forward, until he reached the dry sand. He saw a small resort town ahead. The lights were out in the businesses and homes.
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1703125
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Beneath their feet bedrock stretched a hundred miles
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170294
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Once upon a time there was a Vietnamese restaurant. And then there were two, and four, and eight...
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170200
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You and I will never meet. You will never even know I existed. Even in dreams you will never imagine me. Someone told me once that your sleeping mind cannot conjure up new faces. It just spits out all the ones you’ve ever seen and that’s it. That’s it.
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170210
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“It is not your shoes the Americans complained about!” Roberto yelled, sitting behind his desk, cigar smoke curling around his purple face. “It is your UNDERWEAR!”
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170287
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It doesn't take a genius to figure how he sank, in the drink, like Jeff Buckley. Like a stone.
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170200
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Caster had always imagined the Consensus as a big room, as big as the world, filled with white space and people with quantum wings, flitting about, creating information. There were tinted bubbles for people to share for privacy, and the lights never went
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17021312
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Today I'm feeling fertilized by an egg—
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170211
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1702124
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Xanax, A hand gun, And the courage to pull the trigger
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170265
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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,
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170100
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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.
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170122
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There she is. A paper doll of me. The dress, the lilt, the self-hatred. The crowd thins and swells in want of a scene. Conversations begin, pretend, then halt. My gin and tonic sweats into my hand and I lick at the…
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170110
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At last one of the men on the line bowed his head in a silent prayer for deliverance from what was about to come, then lifted his head and shouted loudly for his fellows to charge.
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170165
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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.
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170100
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...the fatal bleeding-out of the love receptors. They call it “Juliet's Tears.”
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170165
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I wake up on the edge of the mattress, teetering. The dog is looking at me funny.
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170177
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He laughs and runs just like the other boys even though he doesn’t have a father now, just his mom.
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170151
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Two summers later, the ritual began. Carol left her house at midnight, having served her husband and daughter a heavy dinner that left them caged in their sleep. She was like a thief working in reverse: she rose from bed with her husband’s first snore,
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170141
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A tanka/haiku poem about grandma getting run over by a reindeer.
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170143
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17011614
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They are all sleeping, but I know better. I will keep watch and if he comes tonight I will be alert and ready. When he arrives he'll see the slack mouths, the graceless sprawls, hear the grunts, snorts and snores of the other women and then he'll sense me. My eyes will…
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