1635 8 5
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I dreamt once
a child’s drawing of a house
all scribbly black crayon
swayback roof crooked
chimney. God, do you
remember how cold it was
that night?
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1635137
|
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…
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16352110
|
The fly comes in against my will/
and hers. She would prefer/
the wider world with its piles of shit
|
163511
|
On that balcony, on every other day, she practised her other, more worldly religion - gardening, specifically sunflowers.
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163500
|
Can you see the rut? Can you dig your fingers into the flesh?
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163542
|
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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163586
|
The world is upon us. The only thing that matters Now is if you are willing to be seen by them. Many moths Will be hidden by simply gathering on the bark Of the one tree, but this will not sustain you if you Do not also have the courage…
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163585
|
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163410
|
She took a deep breath. Last night, she said, Who was the woman?
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163485
|
Snipers wear camouflage clothing to avoid being seen. It wouldn’t do for a sniper to be seen because then the sniper might become the snipee.
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163400
|
"Do you know how long they've waited for you?" Elle asked. "At first, it was every day after school, waiting at the windows. They wouldn't go play with friends because they wanted to be here, in case you returned. Then, they used to believe you would come
|
163400
|
Tater didn't like three things in this life: his daddy, his momma, and the stupid dog that chewed his jizzed on socks.
|
163400
|
Gravity? What does that have to do with writing or with this improbable tether of blue marbles?
|
1634117
|
the swarthy terror network
|
1634148
|
Six months later, she was teaching theology / to refugees from est.
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163432
|
I turned a maiden to a witch / and back again
|
163441
|
Byron's achievement, certainly quite remarkable, is to have raised the drunken monologue to a literary form.
Edmund Wilson
|
163431
|
It's London Zoo and ten minutes to closing time. The clock walks in and out of cages. I love you baby when you laugh like that at monkeys.Penguin and pelican, wing in wing, approaching. It's some bird act, I know. Two birds from nowhere. One flies, one walks.The zoo…
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163453
|
It was midnight. I was outside the cottage, digging another row of star-shaped holes for the shrubbery.
|
163400
|
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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163400
|
Mint upon my palate, I rub sleep infused eyes and crawl under the covers. Oh blessed sleep, please descend upon this body and transverse this fatigue. Eyes closed, bring a wavering blackness upon subtle lids. The conversation begins…
|
163421
|
A look flashed across his face as if someone had hooked up his genitals to a car battery.
|
163431
|
I will go to work in the morning and no one will stop me.
I wish someone would stop me.
I don’t know if my car will start in this cold.
But if it does (it always does), I am going to drive to work.
|
163400
|
They were working on the factory floor when they died, the auspices of mayhem filtering out to a host of ravens gleaning the neighboring fields. Clouds of them fled the scene around the time of the incident turning the day into twilight…
|
1634104
|
The aisle, nave and/
transept twist themselves/
into an auditorium.
|
163431
|
Your favorite nickname
existed only in the bright red
cherry smoldering
at the end of your smoke.
|
163322
|
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.
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163383
|
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163354
|
“Sixty-seven responses!” Al Edelstein announces at the first meeting of the search committee. It has been just two weeks since Rabbi Feldman dropped dead of a heart attack and just a week since the congregation ran the ad: “Help Wanted: Orthodox Rabbi. Im
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163351
|
Nicole knows that Deirdre is winding up for the weekly pitch, practicing the line in her mind.
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