1556 18 14
|
The phone rings. The oven beeps./
The locomotive whistles and howls.
|
155643
|
I can hear the echoes clearly. They are distinct and crisp, almost as though they're all on exact trajectories to me from their final bounce, without any interference. Each sound, while unintelligible, seems to fit perfectly and expectantly into my ears
|
15562112
|
No twinkle- so, planet, not star./
And bright, so either Venus/
or Jupiter. I’m guessing, Jupiter.
|
155665
|
in the deep dark of
a 2 a.m. atmosphere
|
155622
|
Exhausted, weak from the struggle against the personal gift of terrorism delivered by her ex-boyfriend, she died for a few minutes.
|
155686
|
WANTED: a Muse.
Former Special Forces solider turned poet seeking artistic inspiration. Brunettes preferred but blondes will not be turned away; gingers, however, are out of the question. Must have a voice that sounds like money, a self-destructive tem
|
155621
|
They could cram Rob inside the trunk and then drop him somewhere in the dingles.
|
155522
|
There's a large tunnel that runs under my house. I can only estimate but it's not deep below the ground and that's what worries me.
|
15551411
|
Tender bodies sizzle on the grill.
|
15551511
|
The universe will fuck you over in the end./
That’s what it does, what it’s good at—
|
155554
|
I was always bi-polar. I didn’t realize it was a mental illness until my divorce lawyer had the court order a psychiatric analysis.
|
155552
|
“I would like to keep my head, at least for a few more nights. Didn't you say we were gonna have sex one of these days? Isn't that in the manual?”
|
155594
|
Later, when she said she'd had miscarriages, I should have put it all together.
|
155521
|
the little crummy salon that churned out little fat women with pinked curly hair
|
155510
|
Row,
Caps of white,
A salted escape
beneath reflected light.
Brother, remember those old lies?
I’m off to sea to make those things right,
now.
|
155533
|
I contemplate the words that did not make it; the lost ones. The words deprived of their moment in the sun. These words. These words that are not part of the story.
|
155521
|
|
155500
|
she thinks she looks good in her short red dress, black makeup around her eyes, last night's lipstick a slap of crimson on her cheek.
"like this," she says, holding the hammer above her head.
|
155543
|
A story about convincing people to do things they don't want to do, written entirely in dialogue; originally published by CHEAP POP.
|
155500
|
"I want more grandchildren to spoil," the woman said. Will took a swig of beer at such moments. Maxine only answered with “someday” and looked over toward her husband. She knew it was his fault, didn’t really know why, but blamed him anyway.
|
155510
|
Three teeth. You can pick them out if you hit pause just right. Probably not a person in the entire valley who hasn’t seen that video from the Eastern Cheerleading Finals. They even showed the tape on the eleven o’clock news in Scranton, my face ci
|
155495
|
The world doesn'tend just becauseyou want it to.Bonus poems:The Poet(Series 1)by Darryl PricePoet in a TreeYeah, well, it's not up here either. Although the everything and nothing view is nice. Only because it doesn't have any abandoned cars in it. I'm…
|
155410
|
“We’re never going to get off the treadmill of paying ever-higher taxes," I said, "unless we get some creative suggestions from a professional bisexual tax advisor.”
|
155442
|
True facts about Redbeard the communist pirate.
|
155454
|
Outside it’s still raining. We’ve gone through three cans of Guinness each. I’m waiting for drunkenness to germinate so that I can take him home and fondle what I imagine will be a very slim dick. A Slim Jim. When I chuckle to myself, he thinks I’m still
|
155400
|
The Kid, The Executive, The Doctor, and The Actress.
|
155420
|
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.
|
155400
|
"Nothingness had had enough. Nothingness had become militant. It had bought a camouflage jacket. It grew an afro. It burned its bra. Nothingness was pissed, and it wanted its stuff back."
|
155453
|
My Aunt's husband liked to dress up like a clown
|
155487
|
I imagine you in the States,
pushing stacks of work papers and our memories
to the side, sense your enjoyment that
you won’t see the worry of your
behavior reflected in my eyes again.
That you can buy and bang and be
whomever you want,
|
