1540 6 5
|
faith in gravity/permitted them to extol/the guillotine's blade.
|
154054
|
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.
|
154052
|
“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?”
|
1540106
|
People Who Go to Poems for Truth
|
154000
|
The Kid, The Executive, The Doctor, and The Actress.
|
154011
|
Route 346 is the way Pop drove to Troy long after everybody else took Route 2. Today Charlie and I drive in the opposite direction. Back then, Pop drove us to Troy on Route 346 on Sunday afternoons with the car windows…
|
154085
|
When Frank entered Michiko’s apartment, Michiko was not there.
|
154051
|
Juan’s tío, Richard, who works for the city and is the kind of Mexican who thinks he isn’t, took care of the lawyer. Juan checks himself in the mirror, didn’t know how good dressing fancy would feel.
|
154000
|
Part of me feels like a wounded animal surrounded by hungry cougars. Another part of me feels like being mauled by a cougar might not be that bad. A third part of me wishes he could punch the second part of me in the face.
|
154086
|
If I seemed disappointed after our conversation,
then, for the record, that was never the case.
|
153922
|
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.
|
153910
|
“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.”
|
153933
|
When John wakes up, the first thing he does is run a bath, because his shower is broken, and while the bath is running he gets his breakfast ready.
|
153900
|
Caster had always imagined the Consensus as a big room, as big as the world, filled with white space and people with quantum wings, flitting about, creating information. There were tinted bubbles for people to share for privacy, and the lights never went
|
153977
|
I wondered if Mr. Slane even knew/
how many dogs he owned
|
153933
|
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.
|
153941
|
Just beyond the tree, beyond the fence, close to the grey clouds that hung almost to the earth, a boy sat on another tree's stump. Beneath his crossed legs that he moved up and down rhythmically, under his bright red, Superman shorts, inscribed in the stump, a symbol which…
|
153932
|
“Life is on life’s terms,” she told me once. Her arm, wrapped in clear cellophane, was freshly adorned with a green-pigmented sand-dollar: a living shell.
|
153962
|
All I wanted to do was lay in his smell, I had missed him and didn’t know it before now. He got up to urinate at one point and his absence was obscene to me.
|
153977
|
|
153930
|
Blend the dog a drink and sit down beside him and draw straws for regrets.
|
1539105
|
addict for validation and cat tongues
|
15381511
|
The universe will fuck you over in the end./
That’s what it does, what it’s good at—
|
153820
|
A university student who triggers a flash mob in the heart of Silicon Valley to prove her hacking creds finds herself in deep trouble when the colorful members of Anonymous Hackers prove their hacking creds to her.
|
153841
|
At a rest stop in Montpelier, they stopped to buy Cokes and gum from the vending machines. He was showing off, trying to jimmy one of the locks with a safety pin but it stayed locked and she laughed at him and he said goddamn, look at all a them Milkyways
|
153842
|
True facts about Redbeard the communist pirate.
|
153841
|
Byron's achievement, certainly quite remarkable, is to have raised the drunken monologue to a literary form.
Edmund Wilson
|
153810
|
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.
|
153877
|
To tell the truth, I can’t complain. Look, lots of people have it tough. I don’t have it tough...
|
153884
|
It’s just that—well, I don’t know how to put this—
With a Dadaist poet a non-affair is the height of erotic bliss.
|
