1574 6 3
|
It’s that laugh of hers that gets me...
|
1573103
|
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.
|
157360
|
Velvet answered the door in a red leather dress that was made with just about enough material to make a wallet, and looking like a long limbed drink of water calling out to a thirsty man.
|
157332
|
Somniloquies rise like the drowned . . .
|
157354
|
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.
|
157394
|
Later, when she said she'd had miscarriages, I should have put it all together.
|
157332
|
I turned a maiden to a witch / and back again
|
157332
|
I could smell a bold combination of cheap perfume, stale smoke, and sex excreting from her weathered pores. The bus engine hummed as we climbed a winding road. She scratched her neck and tried to finger comb through her knotted hair. I caught a glimpse of
|
157310
|
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.
|
157311
|
I would open an eye, waiting for it to absorb the scant light in the room, and I would see her on the far edge of the bed, the topography of her hips now a battlement to keep me at bay.
|
157300
|
Emi stood up and turned to Mayumi. She did not know what else to say. There was a sense of helplessness.
|
157343
|
. . . the empiricism of the mechanical had wound tight into her, lessons her few calendars could never impart without aid from sundials, hourglasses, clocks.
|
15731911
|
served as it is/
among these friends.
The frayed filaments/
tickle my chin and irritate my nostrils,
|
157333
|
I am speeding on the highway at 2AM because no one is here...
|
157332
|
Instead, I get things like,
“Why can’t you find a nice man with cancer or a bum leg?”
|
157332
|
His academic nightmare is set in an examination hall, where the student takes a seat at a folding table in the center of the room.
|
157300
|
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.
|
157366
|
It's really not too bad. The personI am was me. We laughed insidethose sacred places at all the monieswell spent. We walked in the gardenswithout any shoes on. Not one singleflower seemed to mind. And now it'sa forgotten mess or so I've imagined.I'd rather you think about…
|
157354
|
The coin, so little, the watch chain, the youth, the fading softening speech, each hand and finger, the panic modeled on your own eyes, the ashtray, certain stumps along the way, the long distance, the odd feather, the jazz rope gone,…
|
157352
|
Hissing through the opening, the spirits have no place.
|
15731511
|
Early Spring, 1075, Northumbria: Judith, too ashamed to speak, too angry to cry, waves her handmaiden away. She wants no food. Wind drives icy rain across the thickness of…
|
1573157
|
Mark Reep is a faded Polaroid oracle taped to the only unbroken window of an abandoned house in Ithaca NY.
|
157385
|
We will collapse in a storm of images
|
1573188
|
Jesus is for sale. But he’s heavy.
|
157321
|
They could cram Rob inside the trunk and then drop him somewhere in the dingles.
|
157287
|
First he wrote it in wet cement at the intersection:
“Tad Loves Kimberley,”
with a big heart around it.
He was real proud, you could see.
But then later on that year, the graffiti began
appearing everywhere, on all the store walls:
“Kimberle
|
157244
|
The man wore a bowler hat and stood on an open patch of grass, with a pyramid-shaped stack of baseballs at his feet.
|
1572104
|
"Middle class workers and working class poor and the unemployed will soon be forming a revolutionary movement to break this stranglehold of corrupt elites."
|
157210
|
She took a deep breath. Last night, she said, Who was the woman?
|
157230
|
I see ghosts. They accost me in their sleep. Hundreds of them. When I wake up (after a long night of half-waking), I think, What wold ghosts want with me? I have nothing for them. But at night they're there again, watching, tapping my shoulder as I lay awake. Sometime…
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