1626 4 1
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We cannot love the past...
|
162611
|
“We know you’re in there, motherfucker. Step out, slowly, and we might keep you fit for an open casket funeral."
|
162675
|
One day it was boring / to be alive.
|
162573
|
I did do one nice thing for you
|
162520
|
|
162511
|
Zorro lived in his mother’s basement until he could get back on his feet.
|
162500
|
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.
|
162511
|
I never could run properly. It’s kinda hard when you’ve got scales all over your body and a big fat tail that gets in the way.
|
162500
|
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.
|
162521
|
It was all things considered a particularly odd sight, which Annalise did not know how to handle.
|
16242413
|
I would fly drones with hydrochloric acid sprays/
over their squadrons and watch the disfigurement/
begin. I love disfigurement...
|
162432
|
I cut myself. Often. The bloodslice like thin lips parted/in prayer.
life’s color drained to ashen/as the old world spins, pirouettes/like a circus dog on the back/of a galloping horse.
|
162400
|
"You look awfully familiar," said one of the corrupt oil company execs to the dark-haired man with the sunglasses and big sideburns.
|
16241911
|
served as it is/
among these friends.
The frayed filaments/
tickle my chin and irritate my nostrils,
|
162400
|
Since when has it become a crime to walk about a neighbourhood? No one will ever convince me that it 's okay to follow, harass, or approach any unarmed person with a gun and shoot them.
|
162464
|
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.
|
16242114
|
I don't believe in symbols
but there's a hole
in my living room window
in the shape of a bird
|
162400
|
“Gorgonzolla!” The remnant croaked, his eyes wild as he thrust an open hand in Jaffron's direction. A burst of energy tilted Jaffron's pod on its axis and sent it hurtling backwards...
|
162477
|
A new philosophy stirs in its surgery.
|
1624168
|
But his muscles fluttered and off he flew
leaving the stink of barnyard on the sheets.
|
162472
|
Underwater your eyes collapseand your feet touch decayed leavesand soft sand at the lake's bottom, the texture of tenderized flesh,maybe an intestineYou spring to the surface tofind your skull met by waterflies, and their limbstweak your peaceOn the shore your…
|
162322
|
Mo Dean woke up sober.
And tired.
Tired of life, of soiled pants, rash, vomit, and whiskey sweat. Tired of holes in his pockets and blisters on his feet, of hanging signs asking for dimes and getting only pennies. And most of all, tired of the police.
|
1623148
|
an undercurrent of fear is running through my community
|
162355
|
Once the limits of human commitment to logic are conceded, cuttlefish may in fact be deemed superior logicians to all other aspirants.
|
162352
|
Jojo dolls & basketballs
a mindflex & pick-up sticks
Parcheesi and—no, not Parcheesi
a supersoaker, a Care Bear
|
162362
|
It was only two days before Christmas. Jonathan remembered his mother crying.
|
162300
|
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
|
162342
|
The following is a true story, or rather it is a true experience from the story of my life. Some say that just because something happens doesn’t really make it “true”.
|
1623139
|
I. he leans his messy head against the walland contemplates his wild mistakeshe discovers a nest of red spidersoutside his rotting basement doorhe watches television in his socksand…
|
162300
|
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.
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