1606 0 0
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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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160621
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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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160533
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I can't take it bird by bird because I have neither.
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160582
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Marge bought the rug on-line.
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160543
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Write power
like a purring kitten
eyes wide
without an idea of exactly
how small he is.
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160543
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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
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160500
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“Hello, Cheryl” the voice on the other end of the phone replied. It was strong but raspy, yet quiet and controlled. The fellow sounded like he had a frog in his throat.
“How do you know my name?” she asked.
“I know a lot of things about y
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160520
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On the plains there are no cliffs, no vast mountain ranges to persuade us that we were somewhere above the world. Yearning to escape the pull of the Earth was the big dream of a plains boy…
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160563
|
someone left graffiti on the billboard
over: "God's a hard
act to follow"; the one that made the news
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160500
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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
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160574
|
The Judge waited for the perfect wave.
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160573
|
Who ever saw an open upright pop bottle on the street?
|
160553
|
“There’s no real freedom in this world. But a car and the open road is close enough for government work.”
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160520
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She dips a toothpick in ink, running prick over paper, simply to prove herself wrong.
|
160599
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She may never know and it sureis a small world. She may neverknow and they have a list. She maynever know, I'm very grateful.She may never know and I couldhave sworn we were getting along justfine. I refused to say goodbye. I am still wearing those…
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160500
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The door shuts slowly to something that’s allegedly mine
and it sits there and waits until I come home
just like you.
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160510
|
This must never get out in the press, for it would cause widespread panic. The priests would surround my house, not to mention the police and possibly the army. Castor Desayuno has come back from the dead!
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160563
|
—Frank, how is your sex life?
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16041510
|
No jagged bits of crust were thrust up/
through the prairie’s black gumbo/
to give us cataclysmic mountain views.
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160474
|
we're not at war / with the world. We have papers.
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160487
|
You are an heiress to drunks.
The statues of your forefathers stagger,
memorialized by gravity, their faces
half-lit eternally, as they reach into refrigerators
for another something
to keep away the cold empty.
|
160495
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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.
|
160400
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I struck up a conversation with the cricket. We talked about Super Nintendo and cookies and we fell asleep on the boulder. The next morning, I woke up and offered the cricket a donut. He enjoyed the donut thoroughly...
|
160421
|
Now you are a raving bare-forked fool madman with nothing.
|
160353
|
"My ex Maxine claimed red wine was the healthy alcohol choice. When we were married and I still had money she drank the expensive stuff, as if drinking Chateau Montrose 2005 instead of two buck chuck made her any less of a wino. She would have been better
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1603104
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The next day I can’t recall at all, a waste, like the flash of twenty years of my life, faces that pass you like comets in some erogenous unnamed zone of night, but they got me in some isolation room with my wrists in leather restraints.
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160300
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It was like Azure was dictating the tempo of a song. Fluid in motion, and a story told.
|
16031712
|
There are 1.45 million readers
of poetry in the US and
2.9 million poets. The odds
of an audience are bad.
|
160352
|
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
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160341
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