1642 12 7
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|
164262
|
All I wanted to do was lay in his smell, I had missed him and didn’t know it before now. He got up to urinate at one point and his absence was obscene to me.
|
164274
|
I break your flesh
and make music
on the harp of your bones.
|
164122
|
my mouth is open, ready to bite your tiny toes
|
164152
|
Do you remember who I am yet?
I remember the first time you made love to me. It appears I was one of the lucky ones … it wasn’t in a car, it wasn’t in your Dad’s boat, underwater, or any other weird place you've written about. It was actual
|
164152
|
You stand in the mirror. You see yourself. You stand sideways; your profile is always your best. You tuck in your stomach, you stick out your ass but it's the same. You stand face front. You shiver. The mirror adds weight to your already sagging breasts, the wrinkles…
|
164153
|
“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…
|
1641159
|
How they all beat the small drum/
of the word within the world
|
164195
|
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.
|
164162
|
“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.’”
|
16411210
|
My little friend is no bigger than a minute. An even five feet tall, if that.
|
164197
|
Even word dancers need rest.
|
164152
|
Maybe this very short story is about shyness. Maybe. I'm not sure.
|
164133
|
A small bar of glycerin soap floated in the sink full of bloody water . . .
|
164131
|
My mind raced at the endless possibilities one could die while driving to get a pizza.
|
164140
|
A short triangular plastic shovels into the/White plastic container filled with topaz crystal-like/Salt granulars. Scratchy sandy sounds echo.
|
1641179
|
Words darken with smut and irony over time.
|
164011
|
Surrounded by a stressfull sense of trying to understand the human condition. The flawed characters in the story speak of past violence and conflict. It is about a boy who is dealing with a recent suicide attempt on his own life & the regrets that come wi
|
164043
|
The print is not ideal, it's true.
|
164000
|
And it's a tough thing
to become a father,
a contradiction;
guiding a child to avoid the things
that you know about so well.
|
164053
|
“You’ve put all my anorexic friends on the table nearest the buffet,” I say. “And all my bulimic friends on the other side of the room away from the buffet and the toilets.”
|
1640126
|
forced to submit/
to reasonableness//
and universal healthcare.
|
164011
|
Each step you take on the pitchEach mile driven downEach closed exit of highway Blocked avenues of importanceBoarded up HammeredNailed shutPeople and places and things You can't get to anymoreThe knife and the needle The black and the…
|
164089
|
Mr. Blumberg and I sat side by side on a small couch in the family room. He was watching a football game on TV.
|
164020
|
And now, the weather. The Cloud Wranglers have roped three solid clouds this morning, preventing the clouds from raining iron bars onto Human Brain Storage Center #17.
|
164085
|
It's good enough. Spacious. Then the cards but I am not for cards. Sasha directs the people, helping them, at ease and happy even. Strangers that have found a common denominator in games. A brotherhood and sisterhood I can't understand. I watch. I see green…
|
164065
|
When I first started out in my working career, I made it the habit of obtaining jobs with companies that were about to go under. (I wrote more books while on unemployment than by any other method.) I was a real bloodhound at sniffing out the pre-dawn od
|
164063
|
—Frank, how is your sex life?
|
164065
|
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…
|
163997
|
The Girl with a typewriter mouthhas a body like a single sheet of blank white paper. I wasobsessed with the Beatles, she tellsme. Well, there are worse things to beobsessed with, I tell her. No, shesays, I mean REALLY obsessed. Oh,is all I can think to reply to…
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