1520 4 0
|
We’re more into the punishment that works its way in through the skin and coats the heart anonymously.
|
152021
|
Are you a hostile person who gets into trouble when you express your anger? Would you like to annoy the hell out of people and get away with it?
|
152077
|
|
152030
|
Blend the dog a drink and sit down beside him and draw straws for regrets.
|
1520140
|
“I was just dreaming about you,” he said, sleepy-voiced. “What's for breakfast?”
|
152075
|
I am no different to her, living seven days ahead
of myself, looking forward to looking back,
as we Irish do so fondly
|
152031
|
I am calling to tell you what’s going to happen tomorrow.
|
152031
|
The blackout lasted longer than anyone thought. From my fifth story window, the whole city seemed to shut down. I heard noises above me. How could it be?
|
15191212
|
Not only half-full/
but stress-fractured
|
1519104
|
"Middle class workers and working class poor and the unemployed will soon be forming a revolutionary movement to break this stranglehold of corrupt elites."
|
1519103
|
Palms planted firmly against his temples, Travis paced the room like a caged animal. Giant black bats screeched in his brain, their pointy wings scraping at the edges of his cranium.
|
151932
|
Somniloquies rise like the drowned . . .
|
151965
|
Santa’s stuck/you say? In the chimney of course./The lard-arsed ol’bastard struggling
|
151977
|
To tell the truth, I can’t complain. Look, lots of people have it tough. I don’t have it tough...
|
151921
|
Father hands Billy a length of rope. Billy builds his resolve, fights back his tears, heads into the kitchen. It's time to become a man.
|
151900
|
Warranties are what made America great, although hers has expired and the mailbox will remain empty for another fifteen days.
|
15191312
|
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…
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151950
|
The room smelled of an old rank basement. Boys and girls of all ages crowded the stage. The room was dark with only a few lights that hung from above keeping the crowd dark and silhouetting Chris on drums.
|
151986
|
Although I think we can easily work it out because we are not here in the Yale graduate school, and diction is the theme of the story. Diction is a choice in language.
|
151986
|
If I seemed disappointed after our conversation,
then, for the record, that was never the case.
|
15182112
|
He would not take Prozac and talked Jesus to her as if from a bucket.
|
151842
|
Anatoly Gringovitch was listening to the dress rehearsal of Hausenstockmann’s Constellations at Auditorium Rainier III in Monte Carlo.
|
151854
|
Christmas night was closing in at the Cantrips alehouse in Aberdeen, a firm favourite for riggers and other men and women who lived life close to the horizon. Sometimes, on a Saturday night, things might get a bit rowdy but Mother O'Grady would stand firm and bring out…
|
151832
|
She flew through the air, linen skirt billowing around her. Below, her buckled bicycle was taking a different route. Less aerodynamic than she, its trajectory was brief, crashing into the ditch. Elspeth kept on flying. Time slowed, and expanded
|
151896
|
I guess at the end you’re only
looking forward. Or upward actually,
since you can only lie there on your back
looking upward, straight ahead toward infinity,
your mouth in a grimace, with the ghostly
pink lips peeled back from the teeth.
|
151865
|
What a nation!
First we lost our money
Now we’ve lost our funny
|
151899
|
I’m from the Land of Sky Blue Waters. I grew up in a lake. I think I’m half fish.
|
151896
|
Erased. Like chalk across my body,
a fine powder of forgetfulness,
with a few swipes --- all those names
and faces, gone. The letters burned.
|
15181311
|
Enough, Trump. We've had it my dear, with your pink ties, your hairs, your swagger, your towers, your money, tempers, walls, bombs, smarts, snarls, pouts and doubts, bigotty bile, and once again, style. We just…
|
1517111
|
Eat me so I can sink in your mouth, my paper fraying along the sharp topography of your tongue, lodging in the holes where your teeth used to be. There, I will storm an infection until your mouth inks my words.
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