1490 8 6
|
in late fall, Rome, sans wind, sans rancor,
sans sand or rain, sans hate ...
|
148977
|
As spilled on a sandy Corona del Mar beach/both in moonlight and starlight so lovely/and strangely sad as if receding still
|
148995
|
My body feels chilly but it's not from the outside temps. It seems to me it's the opposite of a fever.
|
148931
|
"do you know what your problem is when it comes to girls?"
she must mean other than the fact that they're all
completely insane. or at least all the ones i've dated.
|
148995
|
I fear my personal information travels the World Wide Web/
and mad Ukrainians will steal my name and wealth./
I fear the fiscal cliff and raising the ceiling on national debt./
I fear a death by taxes.
|
148955
|
This story is falling head-first into a mud-puddle.
|
148962
|
|
148930
|
white-gray mounds persist
|
148992
|
Dear Sir/ Madam I wish to apply for the position you advertised in the Daily Sun. Although my expertise is in self-obliteration and self-worth (or lack of), and my work mainly in disappointment, I do have much experience in failure, which this letter will…
|
148973
|
How to capture in word, in song, the fleeting moments of our loveYou were hereAnd now you're goneEven as I used to lie next to you,bathed in the care and concern that emanated from your warm black brown eyes,I knew there would be that day, that you were no moreDestined for…
|
14891711
|
maybe a day in deep winter
|
148873
|
I did do one nice thing for you
|
148832
|
it felt fucking awesome at that moment, in that way only little things can feel huge and life affirming
|
148811
|
After years of unsustainable binge spending and a global economic semi-meltdown, most people have had to cut back on their expenses. Many folks are struggling to make do in this new and bewildering economy and we are all learning to live on our means, rather than beyond…
|
148800
|
Under the darkness of their new city. The heave and moan of structures as they breathed and pulsed. Under the darkness of this city, under the hum of their florescent bulbs and the tumbling rattle of motorcars, the wheeze of their machines and the clank o
|
148896
|
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…
|
148873
|
Who ever saw an open upright pop bottle on the street?
|
14882011
|
The nearsighted world/
puts on its lenses
|
148821
|
A look flashed across his face as if someone had hooked up his genitals to a car battery.
|
148811
|
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.
|
148821
|
The Mojave Desert remembers Ron Paul
With tattered billboards
Scraped and clawed by vehement dust
|
148864
|
Harpo was there with his wife. Harpo’s girlfriend came up behind the couch where I was sitting, and I ran my hand up her leg underneath her dress.
|
148877
|
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.
|
148744
|
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.
|
148700
|
Dreams will show you a life that might or might not be yours, but you better believe that they've got to serve when you're asked to come up with a story."--Frank Baron, the night he made bail and left town1. First Blood in Dreams Long Ago The…
|
148751
|
Because he tells her to, she puts on a vintage Easter dress one size too small and sprawls in a circle of light on the dusty floor...
|
148786
|
Mrs. L. was sitting on a love seat in her nightgown. She was sitting in a man’s lap....
|
148710
|
It was the middle of May when I found out my teacher was screwing my mother.
|
148731
|
Fat robins are chirping –
loudly – at 4 a.m.
They’re trying to delude
the worms into thinking it’s
dawn already
The worms get up underground
They’re grumpy, they
bump into things
They come up to the surface
and Wham! That
|
148711
|
Roanne hungered. Memory had ruled her forever. Shards really, edged like machetes: daddy, whose fingers had eyes in the dark. Momma, ensconced in the shadows. Inside the church, those pairs of short…
|
