1654 10 4
|
I hold them to the light...
|
1654 0 0
|
He reached into the bag on the table and pulled out a ten inch record, sleeved in brown paper, with a circle cut out to display the label information. He handled it delicately, like a fresh egg.
|
1654 6 4
|
I pull into the parking lot and see a group of roosters squawking and trying to overturn an ‘87 Pontiac Bonneville that's caught fire. They're pouring whiskey down their throats. They're weeping over a bag of economy sized frozen breast fillets.
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1654 14 10
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In those years,
you and I were told to leap
for a world suffused with sound
and industry.
|
1654 3 1
|
Nothing is ever hoarded in our house, everything is eaten.
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1654 6 5
|
They acquire him in a bar that is famous for its shipwrecks.
|
1654 0 0
|
This is the most frustrating kind of amnesia.
|
1654 4 3
|
Many years ago I visited a nude beach. I undressed at the car and walked with my companions onto a California beach as naked as the day we were born.
|
1654 6 5
|
Q: What's the best song to sing to your doc before cataract surgery?
A: I Only Have Eyes For You
|
1654 9 10
|
For instance, my sister's husband. If I say brown socks, yellow boxer shorts, fishnet undershirt. If I say plastic bag and two tepid beers. And a voice that glides to falsetto when he: you're a tad too obscene for my taste, Julia, while he tries to light the filter end of…
|
1654 0 0
|
She didn’t think of herself as an undesirable, no, she didn’t, but did find herself cowering in face of the presumed judgment of those around her. They had more money, more clout, more everything.
|
1653 5 5
|
There was a certain romanticism in it, the salty old man sidling up to me at a bar, rhapsodizing in a slurred stream of conscious about the state of the world, the country, the state of his own heart. He didn't have an eye patch nor beard, nor was he…
|
1653 5 4
|
Dear Conrad,
If you cannot control your dog’s barking I’ll rig up a loud speaker facing the general direction of your house, and every time your mutt starts howling at the moon, I’ll start playing “It’s a Small World (After All)” at top volume on the p
|
1653 5 4
|
...That flash of horror as well as the lie that replaced it were mirrors of sorts and both told the truth.
|
1653 0 0
|
Dominic would show them all. That stupid "Welcome to Bessemer" sign was his. It was the pride of the whole damn town. No other target would do.It was the dead of night, and Dominic rode his bike to the town line. He briefly considered spray painting something vulgar over…
|
1653 10 10
|
not of time, but of all the clocks/
that tick along toward the end/
of all the possibilities.
|
1653 6 3
|
rockstar, moviestar, literary supernova – burning out before all the planets are declassified.
|
1653 5 2
|
Billie Holiday and I want a cup of coffee and they tell us to go fuck ourselves.
|
1653 1 1
|
Sleep left him like a fragmenting illusion. Suddenly, he was awake, like something pressing but fleeting had awoken him. Once awake, though, all he had was silence and stillness. His pulse quickened, his…
|
1653 0 0
|
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.
|
1653 8 5
|
It's good enough. Spacious. Then the cards but I am not for cards. Sasha directs the people, helping them, at ease and happy even. Strangers that have found a common denominator in games. A brotherhood and sisterhood I can't understand. I watch. I see green…
|
1653 3 1
|
“Let me in,” I begged.
“No. Get back stinky feet.”
“I washed them.”
|
1653 7 5
|
One day it was boring / to be alive.
|
1652 4 4
|
She Waited for the other Shoe to Drop
|
1652 2 1
|
my maddening pyromaniac,/ you're burning up my heart/ so open up your broad-toothed mouth/ and let me pour the ashes in.
|
1652 7 7
|
I wondered if Mr. Slane even knew/
how many dogs he owned
|
1652 2 1
|
"Now, I'm not no Holocaust Denier . . . I just think it was a little bump in the road! Like Reagan said about Watergate . . . 'Mistakes were made,' and all. Well, shoot . . .…
|
1652 7 6
|
will we begin again?We are a wheelFirst touchfirst kissfirst heatThey fade, disappear, come back again.Spokes in our wheel.When again shall we begin again?I hold you and feel myself spincaught in the whirlwind of thrill -the world, saturated with your scent.We hold each…
|
1652 11 8
|
There are stories I will not tell, stories I shudder / to remember. You'll forgive me for withholding them from you. / You may, of course, not tell me everything about yourself either
|
1652 0 0
|
From Berlin to Arcturus. I squeeze Sevigny’s wrist, wish Izzy could be here, but she’s melting salt in Utah. We were on our way to Los Angeles. I’ve booked the horror room.
|