1625 5 2
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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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162563
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It was only a dream. No one died, nor were they even harmed. So horrifying!
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162533
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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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162589
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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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162552
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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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1625910
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I wanna make
banana peel poems--
slippery little booby traps
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162500
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At 7:30 that evening my brother knocked on Parker's front door. When I went to let him in, sweat was running off Darrell's head like he'd been hit by a water balloon. The air was absolutely unmoving, and there was the smell of tar from the asphalt in th
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162531
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Warning: Open and read before making any dumb-ass New Year's resolutions.
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162597
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Out in the world again, pretending to belong.
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162411
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Then he took the tune out to Ben Clarone land. The horn was beautiful, if leaky. His fingers flew over the keys.
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162411
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Barbie wore only her clear pink heels...
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162475
|
The easiest and most legal way to pick up a woman is to take a single, writer friend with you to a bar. While there, look for the woman you are interested in. Her? Are you sure? Okay then. Next, tell your writer friend that the woman keeps looking at him when he's…
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162400
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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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162474
|
Once again there's too much to handle and
no space to process
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162495
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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.
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162475
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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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162420
|
She dips a toothpick in ink, running prick over paper, simply to prove herself wrong.
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1624127
|
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1624117
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I saw it coming from five feet
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162422
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Just as one thing I say is “Don’t worry about me,” one thing I think is that you love somebody by living with them...
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162495
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The instant you remember
gratitude
with enough focus to spring free its power...
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162474
|
I break your flesh
and make music
on the harp of your bones.
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162376
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The note was a lie, multiplied through each member of its potential audience....
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162382
|
Marge bought the rug on-line.
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162300
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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.
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162396
|
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.
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1623136
|
It wasn't so much the softness of the bed that kept her from sleep, or the pungent bleach-scent of the unfamiliar sheets, but the lack of her clock's familiar tick, tick, tick. Or was it a missing heartbeat? Awake, she watched his chest. On the table, an empty pill …
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162364
|
As black as his socks with a hole in them she used to sew while watching. The octopus has three hearts you know. Yes, No and Maybe.
As black as inkpots, inkjets, as black as typewriter ribbons and the Gutenberg press, as black as the ink of a trillion
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162362
|
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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162311
|
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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