1608 3 2
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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.
|
160877
|
I wondered if Mr. Slane even knew/
how many dogs he owned
|
16081911
|
|
160882
|
Running into the fire, the smoke and the chaos;
selfless first responders, innocent bystanders,
and dedicated runners
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160854
|
She allowed him to wash her hair. Touching it in a wet state, running his hands through it in a soapy state, wringing the water out when he was finished—he was ecstatic.
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16082114
|
I don't believe in symbols
but there's a hole
in my living room window
in the shape of a bird
|
160800
|
The church building was a rustic structure made of rough-cut lumber that over-lapped in the clap-board fashion. The building itself was unpainted, but the boards were a weathered gray that only came from years of exposure to weather. The steeple towered o
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160721
|
my maddening pyromaniac,/ you're burning up my heart/ so open up your broad-toothed mouth/ and let me pour the ashes in.
|
160720
|
You beckon me with an aperitif.
The Kir Royal tingles, its bubbles tickling my nose.
Its subtle black courant pulls me into your smile.
I drink from your lips the champagne-tingle of your kiss.
|
160753
|
It was midnight. I was outside the cottage, digging another row of star-shaped holes for the shrubbery.
|
1607137
|
I miss Mother gentling the small of my back. She has forgotten me. Her little girl. Whose thumb she fussed over when a rose thorn scratched it and blood spilled like a secret. Whose smile she said was her morning sunshine, whose hug was incense. I yearn for her lips…
|
160700
|
The artist leans back in his chair, smoking a cigarette
after lunch, looking away from the table toward the right
He is dressed in white, and he's practically stretched out
his entire length, to relax after rowing the boat all
morning. Sunlight
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16071312
|
My eyes hold my mother. It's not easy being human she tells me. She always told me. Sure, but the stories are lovely. We all know that. We generate the tales, tell the tales, kiss our children. Live on in their eyes, though, don't…
|
160711
|
The night is very clear and unusually cold. We are so near to the star that its light banishes the darkness that tries futilely to extinguish it. A small village twinkles in the foothills to our east. The cry of a lost sheep cuts the night like a blade
|
160743
|
Her back turned, she wanders off
searching for the way home
wringing her hands,
trying to think, but thoughts
evade her.
|
16071410
|
In those years,
you and I were told to leap
for a world suffused with sound
and industry.
|
160700
|
“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...
|
1607139
|
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…
|
160764
|
Harpo was there with his wife. Harpo’s girlfriend came up behind the couch where I was sitting, and I ran my hand up her leg underneath her dress.
|
160700
|
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.
|
1606148
|
an undercurrent of fear is running through my community
|
1606108
|
After his chemotherapy failed, he went water skiing.
|
160610
|
It was the middle of May when I found out my teacher was screwing my mother.
|
160633
|
Tell me everything about yourself, if I could care, I can pretend, let me pretend.
|
160642
|
To be a backup dancer for Billy Ocean; that's all. I had chubby legs like a baby. They turned out akwardly as if I had broken hips but mum said it was just the way I came out and I would grow out of it.
|
160663
|
rockstar, moviestar, literary supernova – burning out before all the planets are declassified.
|
1606106
|
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…
|
160611
|
Zorro lived in his mother’s basement until he could get back on his feet.
|
160621
|
A look flashed across his face as if someone had hooked up his genitals to a car battery.
|
160631
|
“Let me in,” I begged.
“No. Get back stinky feet.”
“I washed them.”
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