1653 7 4
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I break your flesh
and make music
on the harp of your bones.
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165322
|
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165340
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“Well, aren’t you the cutest thing?”
Shelly looked around for the source of the line and one of the better looking bar flies met her gaze. He wore a faded t-shirt with a swoosh graphic that read ‘Just Do Me‘. True to its mystical nature, her indefatigabl
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165377
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I spent most of those days in my car. Stashed in the trunk was a cache of precious stones, neatly sorted and separated, bound in smooth black velvet inside a smooth black briefcase.
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165221
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“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…
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165291
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Naked, we stood in my shower. When she kicked my tool, I noticed she had a toe ring.
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165211
|
This new kid on the block, named Miller, showed up out of the blue one day, while we were throwing rocks and boulders down on this flimsy gray sheet of construction plywood that was covering an open trench in front of a new house on our block. One of the
|
16521712
|
There are 1.45 million readers
of poetry in the US and
2.9 million poets. The odds
of an audience are bad.
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165242
|
Although badly educated, and although the Michoacána fought to deny it, she held the complex notion that borders are not abrupt lines, simple artifacts of geography and cartography.
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165282
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The ocean smelled like decomposed plant life and clinically despicable vagina, but I still spoke of its power and my fear of it in moonlit clichés and she still listened.
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165262
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“He put his stuff down—sunglasses, lotion and so forth—and I noticed there’s a little notebook that he didn’t have before.‘What’s that?’” I asked, and he said ‘Nothing.’”
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165221
|
"Now, I'm not no Holocaust Denier . . . I just think it was a little bump in the road! Like Reagan said about Watergate . . . 'Mistakes were made,' and all. Well, shoot . . .…
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165276
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"I'm in a wrestling movie!" you shouted.
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165221
|
Slipshod shoes were the first sign of a meltdown. Sometimes she could see it coming. A prickly gentleman washing his clothes on a Thursday afternoon. One week he’s fine. Nothing wrong with owning a sour face. The next Thursday, his shoes don’t match.
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165233
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Things looked way too normal to be normal. The cold, gliding black eyed swans never once straying far from each other's wake, the cute blue jeaned lovers everyone secretly watched carefully picking their trickling way over small odd rocks and…
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165211
|
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.
|
165252
|
Maybe this very short story is about shyness. Maybe. I'm not sure.
|
165233
|
A small bar of glycerin soap floated in the sink full of bloody water . . .
|
165211
|
The room turns red and I start screaming and ejaculating. The whole class is watching as Mr.Smith slams down my copy of the test with his right hand and swiftly tears off my penis with his left.
|
165297
|
Out in the world again, pretending to belong.
|
165211
|
He had a handsome dial tone, we called him every name but his.
|
1652108
|
Sunday morning beginning with a bang. Accused, found wanting, sentenced.
|
1652116
|
The days cut off by damp chill with every thought a different variety of protection.
|
165256
|
IN nature, it's hard to find a straight line. Stand on a beach. Look out to sea. There out far you might think you see a line where the sky comes down to join. Where two fields of blue meet. But where you're not quite sure for the line is a blur there. You…
|
165196
|
It hangs unspoken in the sadness he pushes through his harmonica, while his hands work the old, beat-up guitar that tries to be a Gibson for his fingertips.
|
165131
|
If this is trouble, please call someone else.
|
165100
|
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
|
165153
|
We sat in silence, the entire train, the few other passengers in anxious wait to see if I would change my mind. We all flipped pages, glanced up at each other, looked away when noticed.
|
165144
|
What if blood engorging your penis could be the result of emotions other than sex and violence? Wouldn't it be nice if your dick could be used to express the lengths and depths of other feelings?
|
165110
|
I was shooting baskets in the driveway when the Mexican kid delivered the groceries. He drove in fast and loud . . .
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