1516 6 5
|
Cézanne sags during a moment of paint. There is an umbrella in the room whose surface collects his thoughts. Outside, in the rain, the grass and garden smell strongly of spring. Fruit litters the table. Light through the window writhes in conversation with shape and…
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15152112
|
We lie sleepless at night, enraged,/
and finger the keyboard
|
151544
|
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.
|
151576
|
—indistinct and foggy, my eyes lost at sea,
confined to a horizon not close to land.
|
151584
|
(the vast preponderance of dark matter and dark energy discernible in these latter days begins to suggest just how dark the humor of existence is) . . .
|
151522
|
Why yes I began writing this, my bildungsroman, Who is Mitsy Jackson, in spring, 1974 or thereabouts, and thank you so much for asking.
|
151520
|
A shadowless torpedo shaped form plummeted from the grey, overcast skies upon the many unsuspecting. No remote pilot thousands of miles away guided this particular descent.
|
151596
|
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…
|
151570
|
He came running out of his narrow little shop, Berthillon
and chased me down the Ilse St. Louis street, saying,
“Monsieur, Monsieur, nous avon pamplemousse!
It’s ici, Monsieur. Your pamplemousse.
They just come in this matin, morning
and I’
|
151564
|
As black as his socks with a hole in them she used to sew while watching. The octopus has three hearts you know. Yes, No and Maybe.
As black as inkpots, inkjets, as black as typewriter ribbons and the Gutenberg press, as black as the ink of a trillion
|
151500
|
The door shuts slowly to something that’s allegedly mine
and it sits there and waits until I come home
just like you.
|
151445
|
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,…
|
151455
|
I keep my love for you in me, /
like the egg of a worm,
|
151422
|
my mouth is open, ready to bite your tiny toes
|
151474
|
we're not at war / with the world. We have papers.
|
151441
|
@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; } …
|
151453
|
“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…
|
151486
|
Mrs. L. was sitting on a love seat in her nightgown. She was sitting in a man’s lap....
|
15141810
|
At some point, indifference//
will swallow the small gasps./
The appalling will become the norm.
|
151495
|
I fully intend to show Hamilton the delights of soft Oriental carpeting and a delicious new position I learned not long ago. It involves a silk scarf, a leather strap and some aromatic herbs.
|
151453
|
It was midnight. I was outside the cottage, digging another row of star-shaped holes for the shrubbery.
|
151488
|
-Love is a rushing
of blood
|
151481
|
The thing Bentley remembered most about her was she had no body odor. None.
|
1514104
|
I hold them to the light...
|
151420
|
The rocket shone in the distance. Cape Canaveral had never looked so pretty.
|
1514129
|
She said, “I think I’m pregnant,” but I thought that the sidewalk looked cleaner than usual,
|
151430
|
Theresa Esposito woke to the smell of pignoli cookies baking. The sweet scent made her stomach rumble. She was ten-years-old today. And she felt ten. Her hair, her ears, her eyes, her toes — everything felt ten.
|
151475
|
...the daffodils will fling/
their yellow petals, taunting winter
|
151433
|
A small bar of glycerin soap floated in the sink full of bloody water . . .
|
151411
|
He had a handsome dial tone, we called him every name but his.
|
