1565 8 2
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Marge bought the rug on-line.
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1565107
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156510
|
That night we went out to shoot some pool at the pool hall over on Durant Avenue, which was above a bar called Kip’s. Rotten Bobby walked in with his own damn pool cue, which came broken down in two pieces. He carried it in a narrow felt-lined carrying
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156522
|
Past the pavilion, past the factory, past the underside of the bridge where the surfers jimmy their sloppy fingers over the oil barrels.
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156576
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In the blacklight of the storm, mother would tremble, spit and sway as the shutters would clatter and she would give away her balance. It was more than my heart could bear. She would always center her accusation with, “your boyfriend is a rake and a flam.” That…
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1565105
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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.
|
156554
|
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156561
|
I was quite alone in this small room with the tarp and the dying fire.
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156565
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Going to the candy store at night in the section of town called Kalliope. Riding bike, trying to get there before it closed at ten. Getting candy at that little store with the glass containers and the rows and rows of candy. Getting milk there…
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156445
|
Paulette lived on the east side on Paulette Avenue. Mama dropped me off when we wanted to play Barbies. Her neighborhood was a little green lily pad in a swamp of blight and disrepair. A ghetto moat ringed around those three fancy blocks like a first line of defense,…
|
156400
|
It was like Azure was dictating the tempo of a song. Fluid in motion, and a story told.
|
156400
|
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.
|
156486
|
remembering Cahokia, a place we rent near the water's edge, for we dare not enter
|
156474
|
we're not at war / with the world. We have papers.
|
156453
|
“But I don't HAVE an accent,” she said. With an accent. “Tell him I don't have an accent, y'all.” Looking from one friend to another. Messy ponytail bouncing. I just stared. I may have blinked. A couple times. Every syllable…
|
156454
|
Published writers will tell you that the most important thing you can do as a beginning writer is to know your markets! So this month, we'll talk about two of the markets open to you and your riveting but as yet unpublished prose -- Fling Magazine and Clubhouse…
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156452
|
“You done done sumpin’,” the old man guessed, “Sumpin’ bad...”
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156455
|
I got an email notification that your relationship status had changed to Single...
|
156400
|
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.
|
156430
|
white-gray mounds persist
|
156499
|
not every punishment proceeds / without a hitch
|
156477
|
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
|
1564148
|
|
15641211
|
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156442
|
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.
|
156344
|
Moore doubted, perhaps, that readers could sympathize with a man who had killed someone for a cause or a girlfriend who forgave him. Perhaps she felt that maiming is (not) worse than murder. Perhaps she decided that the story should be about that.
|
156300
|
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.
|
15632111
|
The lungs forsake their love of breath. The arms/
resist throwing off the small weight of sheets.
|
156394
|
don't look at me honey, I fell on the table,
my hair is on fire, my heart is unstable
|
1563116
|
A pinprick breaks the black/
and pins the spin of constellations/
around its still point.
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