1487 5 2
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That contraption he’d invited her to pedal, somebody oughta market one of those. The closer you got the harder it got, and her feet kept slipping off the pedals. It was maddening.
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148734
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What I Love About HistoryMy roommate, Cara, wears all black, which she thinks scares me. I've never bothered to tell her I wore all black for two years, eighth and ninth grade, and I'm just over it, not that I think she's lame or passé, but there's nothing remotely…
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148700
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Can you see the rut? Can you dig your fingers into the flesh?
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148722
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Suppose Eve, strolling through the sunlit Garden, had not stumbled on that particular Tree at all, the wily serpent twined in its lower branches?
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1486102
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Saturday morning, and I’m pushing the old truck a little, chasing retreating bands of cloud shadows along a winding hilltop road.
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148600
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Throughout breakfast Quebec kept watching this investor fellow, John Lytle. She tried remembering something about him, about when they'd first met. Her first impressions were very nearly always correct. But all she could bring to memory now was that it
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1486108
|
I bit her ear and /
it was burnt toast
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148622
|
No one had told the newer tenants that the dead would be given votes, and they were in an uproar: it wasn’t legal; it wasn’t fair; it was creepy.
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148642
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148698
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She wonders if he will do the dishes. He said that he would, but that doesn’t mean anything. He said he would do them last week, said he would save money, said he would come home last night. He didn’t do any of those things, either.
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1486148
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1486159
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How they all beat the small drum/
of the word within the world
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148650
|
The dead horse on CNN
was floating there
in the floodwater
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148664
|
When he smashed his plate in my lap, the dog hung around, licking my wrist and hoping that he would get some milk, too. With my luck, he'd jump in the pool, getting grass clippings all over the edge. My nails were sharp that day, I had to cut them, and I did while…
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1486118
|
“The beginning was good. That’s what he likes. The moment when you’re driving in the open air and your hair is flying and your skirt is whipping up around your knees, and he’s smoking, of all things, and happy and looking at you."
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148686
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My wife tells me/your dog has vomited/
on the carpet AGAIN!
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1486138
|
I worry for the daffodils/
and there optimistic yellow bursts./
I worry for the over-eager clover,//
prodigious green on crepe myrtles,/
even for the early green of nut grass.
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148664
|
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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148631
|
“Let me in,” I begged.
“No. Get back stinky feet.”
“I washed them.”
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148581
|
The dowdy woman in fart nailed the vim.
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148577
|
Content may contain ordinary, everyday, and all around average happenings.
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148533
|
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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148522
|
Beautiful boy! I am doomed / to have attended your presence; / time consumes us, but you / have changed so little...
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148530
|
my molars are dancing, tekka-tekking to the strung-out paint can groove of my heart.
|
148577
|
A new philosophy stirs in its surgery.
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148542
|
Our dinner was over and we regretfully had to leave the restaurant. She leaves with enough shopping money for a few weeks. He, getting the rough end of the deal, has charged more money to his credit card at 19% plus cash withdrawal fees. So I ask myself
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148511
|
I don't know, I could go on all day with these little niches he found in every person that made them at least a little interesting.
Everyone collects baseball cards.
|
148531
|
Your favorite nickname
existed only in the bright red
cherry smoldering
at the end of your smoke.
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148422
|
There she is. A paper doll of me. The dress, the lilt, the self-hatred. The crowd thins and swells in want of a scene. Conversations begin, pretend, then halt. My gin and tonic sweats into my hand and I lick at the…
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148455
|
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…
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