1581 5 3
|
I sat at the kitchen counter, aware of a heaviness, a numbness, in my flesh, my bones, my mind. My dancer's body -- short, trim and 108 pounds -- felt as huge and unmoving as the…
|
1581 17 9
|
Words darken with smut and irony over time.
|
1580 8 4
|
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.
|
1580 4 3
|
It is within my nature, and many others I know, to cling to what’s consistent and certain: the battles fought in the war for survival and the organic camaraderie borne in the trenches. Sometimes the quest and the people we commiserate with along the way
|
1580 2 2
|
my mouth is open, ready to bite your tiny toes
|
1580 0 0
|
The moon hung in the sky, round and pale, under cover of some wispy clouds.
|
1580 7 7
|
Content may contain ordinary, everyday, and all around average happenings.
|
1580 0 0
|
A woman is fishing in the Seine at the far left
of the painting, while time is suspended and light
remains. One man plays a trumpet. A half dozen
people sit or walk under parasols. Couples stroll
and children run or sit or stand beside their
p
|
1580 1 1
|
Zorro lived in his mother’s basement until he could get back on his feet.
|
1580 12 9
|
She said, “I think I’m pregnant,” but I thought that the sidewalk looked cleaner than usual,
|
1580 0 0
|
"Look at the grime on those curtains. Not fit for an Emperor. Pull them down. Put up fresh new ones. Not a spot."
"Oh! Look at this throne. All uneven legs. The gems are not shining. The gold looks dull. Fix it, fix it, fix it!"
|
1580 6 3
|
—Frank, how is your sex life?
|
1580 3 3
|
The questions we ask ourselves define who we are as a culture. “What is the meaning of life?” “Is there a God?” “Does anybody really know what time it is?” “Where the hell did I put my car keys?” To see what…
|
1580 2 1
|
Last night Jim taught me how to catch forks. Meaning, he taught me how to throw them. But he called it catching forks. It was late, and we were low down 3rd street, south of the Bay Bridge, the baseball stadium, all the people and cars, on top of a warehouse. There were a…
|
1579 8 5
|
Snipers wear camouflage clothing to avoid being seen. It wouldn’t do for a sniper to be seen because then the sniper might become the snipee.
|
1579 7 3
|
I did do one nice thing for you
|
1579 5 5
|
beat them with fists and purses.
|
1579 16 9
|
Have you ever spent twilight in a old pasture?
|
1579 6 5
|
This writers' conference (sponsored by VQR, which had run its banner ad atop the Fictionaut home page in the summer of 2014, which begins to explain both my attendance and this essay) revealed itself as an apt subject . . .
|
1579 3 1
|
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
|
1579 2 0
|
With a roar and short burst of flame, the dragon awoke, startled.
|
1579 2 0
|
On Martini Business Nights the rules of decorum were written by Esquire or Playboy.The red bar-side book divulges the secrets brewed with ice, libation and a sleek chrome shaker, because its all about the accoutrement, and technique. Mr Boston said that, NOT James Bond. If…
|
1579 10 6
|
I enjoy launching words into space. Please dangle a moment here while I prepare the next sentence. Ok. You can come in now. Take boiling for instance. And hawsers. The sound of words on a sheet of paper. The manifesto for a roll of sleep. Sleep is oblivious to…
|
1579 14 8
|
His wife had just come from the gynecologist and was toying with her French fries.
|
1579 14 9
|
the wind mistook your arms for wings
|
1579 6 6
|
The Misses Moses by Brad Watson from Aliens in the Prime of Their Lives The Moses sisters lived together, alone, in the fine old brick house near downtown where they…
|
1579 2 1
|
A look flashed across his face as if someone had hooked up his genitals to a car battery.
|
1579 6 5
|
With each step, that cold hand steals ever upward.
|
1579 12 8
|
I was hope, and
you were what I can only call
consolation, as day after day you
remained a grief in my throat.
|
1579 2 1
|
The Mojave Desert remembers Ron Paul
With tattered billboards
Scraped and clawed by vehement dust
|