1593 10 9
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Polylinguists lash me
with tongues I cannot conjugate
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159300
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“Do we really want to treat her? Is she even really sick, or does she live in a country as real as ours, but one we can never visit?”
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159333
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Quimby’s eyes lit up. “Oh, lads, there must be a thousan’ ways to die at sea! I’ve made th’ Atlantic passage a good many time; lemme recount some manners of death I’ve witnessed with mine own eyes.”
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159310
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Floating along the ebbs of the ocean,toward the horizon, where time has no say,an end that will never be reached.
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1593128
|
|
159362
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Sometimes one person's shelter is another person's storm.
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159200
|
I figure maybe I’m mostly alone; they are all running down staircases or falling down fire escapes, some of them naked, some of them with towels, mostly probably naked though.
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159286
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remembering Cahokia, a place we rent near the water's edge, for we dare not enter
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15921610
|
A figure left the building.
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159200
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Alysia tried to focus on what was important, but it was too much to bear. She was ready to dive down when a shot of wind blew past her, causing her and Megumi to lose control over their gliders.
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159200
|
When we talked about the lasagna, we were, I see now, talking about different things. I.e., I was talking about lasagna, and you were talking about almost everything but. You weren't talking about the dry, burnt noodles or…
|
159296
|
THIS is what happened — the dead went into remission. Dated may 10 2010. Or it could have been some other day. They were going to be restored later. That's what we were being told. The dead were being given stones to mark their remission. They were getting…
|
159200
|
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.
|
159230
|
His mother named him Far because she had high hopes for him
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1592118
|
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…
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159275
|
He plucks the feathers and winds thread to simulate an insect’s torso.
|
159243
|
The songs that she used to sing to him still dance in his head while he wrangles equations. The stars in the cosmos spell out her name.
|
159255
|
there should be a word for it.
|
1592106
|
The trees would answer with a creak and a crackle.
Fall was near, a rotten apple.
|
159242
|
Had this been a film, I’d have seen you at once. Extreme close-up: my finger on the green button that opens the door to the park. Long shot: my leaving my bike at the entrance. Slow shot: my walking down the narrow stone path.
|
159121
|
“They say she lives alone out there.” “What, like out in the woods?” “Not like way back in a cabin or anything, but in a little house out there off the road. I'm not even sure she has a car.” “What, does she…
|
1591146
|
She drinks a chocolate martini. I fold myself up and slide into her pocket.
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1591127
|
In time, I will forgethow he said "smooshie" for "smoothie"and "eyebrowns" for "eyebrows,"how his upper lip dimpled when he laughedin that uproarious, wild toddler way.How he wheedled to be wrapped and rocked,after a bath, even at age five,his long calves uncovered by…
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159132
|
I remember when I first came to California, I heard a mockingbird sitting in a tree, calling out in the names of other birds. It was down in L.A. I was staying at my brother's house in San Gabriel and driving in every day to the campus at UCLA to go to s
|
159112
|
[SOME PEOPLE ARE BETTER THAN OTHERS.]
|
15912111
|
The lungs forsake their love of breath. The arms/
resist throwing off the small weight of sheets.
|
159100
|
Everybody knew Billy Miller. He had messy hair and crooked teeth that he hid behind a thin-lipped smile. He and his friend Jimmy Rodgers, who everyone called Cock on account of his red hair that stuck up like a comb, were inseparable. They liked to ste
|
1591106
|
If you're a Boomer, your brain is teaming with decades-old Pop tunes that you just can't forget. The real reason you can never remember where you put your keys? Too many of your brain cells are clinging to every last lyric to “Fire and Rain,” “Free…
|
159181
|
The dowdy woman in fart nailed the vim.
|
159187
|
It doesn't take a genius to figure how he sank, in the drink, like Jeff Buckley. Like a stone.
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