1617 0 0
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That old woman's got to be senile or something. The other day she asked my daughter if I had a "thing about water." Sharon told her I didn't, but then came right in and asked me, "Mother, you got a thing about water?"
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161721
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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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161733
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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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161762
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Living lower on the hog than anticipated
lower on the hog than previously expected
lower on the hog than desired
Living on the underside of the hog belly
pretty much bouncing on the ground
beneath the aforementioned hog belly
Living clos
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161752
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Billie Holiday and I want a cup of coffee and they tell us to go fuck ourselves.
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161792
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Cat's ass was on fire. The roof was scorching hot. Her clothes were in a pile by the door that led to the roof. She was sitting next to the ventilation duct, her hands outstretched behind her, her knees bent before her. Jim was standing in front of…
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161754
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My wife broke the news to me. She enjoyed it, too, I'm certain of that. It was a juicy piece of gossip.
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1617910
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I wanna make
banana peel poems--
slippery little booby traps
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161743
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The songs that she used to sing to him still dance in his head while he wrangles equations. The stars in the cosmos spell out her name.
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161765
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1617179
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Words darken with smut and irony over time.
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161684
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When hadrons collide they’re not always Swiss. They may be cheese or neutral but that isn’t of my concern.
Look at them, touch them, feel them, the quirks of the antiquarks, masonic mesons, baron baryon.
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161654
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...That flash of horror as well as the lie that replaced it were mirrors of sorts and both told the truth.
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161652
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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…
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161663
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someone left graffiti on the billboard
over: "God's a hard
act to follow"; the one that made the news
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161652
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We slept beside dripping glaciers
people like us
We were never meant to be housed
contained, kept, petted, cleaned
We could only be gutted
You used us one time
and threw us out
people like us
We sprouted the wings of desire
by watchi
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161675
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The receipts all fell into the black leather valise he’d retrieved from storage that afternoon, except for the forty-eight cents, which wound up in the right front pocket of his jeans.
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161689
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Mr. Blumberg and I sat side by side on a small couch in the family room. He was watching a football game on TV.
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161673
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Who ever saw an open upright pop bottle on the street?
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16161414
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I realize the kid is still smoking. Shocked, I tear the cigarette from his mouth, throw it to the earth, and grind it to death with the heel of my boot.
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161687
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Cat fight. I rush outside and swinging my trusty broom I charge the rolling yowling ball of black fur.
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161665
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With each step, that cold hand steals ever upward.
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161652
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Maybe this very short story is about shyness. Maybe. I'm not sure.
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161600
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Like some beautiful yet macabre puppet, she was suspended on strings of wire, painstakingly threaded tubing flowing into her cavities, through her chambers, around her mechanics.
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161621
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My buddy had been in the computer business, a systems analyst. Surely there would be some mention of him online. But there was nothing. Nothing, that is, until I saw the obituary.
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161582
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Marge bought the rug on-line.
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161500
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It was like Azure was dictating the tempo of a song. Fluid in motion, and a story told.
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161555
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beat them with fists and purses.
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1615116
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I write poems as if language matters.
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161511
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The highway stretches out in front of me, a black ribbon winding into the future; a collapsing probability of possibility connecting me with the past and through it to the future.
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