1603 6 5
|
What a nation!
First we lost our money
Now we’ve lost our funny
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160300
|
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.
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160355
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We pull up chairs. I breathe in her Bath and Body Works vanilla, read her paper slowly and aloud because the ears catch what the eyes miss. Her sentences are awkward, stilted.
|
160321
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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?
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160330
|
Blend the dog a drink and sit down beside him and draw straws for regrets.
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1603105
|
addict for validation and cat tongues
|
160200
|
“Yo, Paciorek. Lend me your DNA, cuz I left mine on the farm, and I have a test tomorrow,” Feller ordered in a commanding voice, because he had gumption.
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160274
|
Everybody breaks.
Everything splinters.
|
160276
|
Marie was on the roof. The deck, with its cool concrete pavers and faded cedar Adirondack chairs, was one of the reasons she and Harold had bought their condo in this building. The only ugly part of the roof was the chain-link fence along its edge; soon after they moved…
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160263
|
Chant the ice cream mantra.
Prance the do dah day ballet.
Trot the t-bone tango two-step.
Dance the livelong day away.
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160211
|
Her mother sighed, fingering the faux-pearls around her neck. Barbara's neck tensed, almost as though the hair on the back of it would stand up: Here comes a platitude . . .
|
1602106
|
There were only six passengers aboard the small ferry...
|
160253
|
My Aunt's husband liked to dress up like a clown
|
160254
|
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,…
|
160240
|
|
160200
|
A month before the real flowers came, amputated trees for 31 miles were festooned with pink blossoms. The petals were tufts of Fiberglass insulation shorn from houses incapable of withstanding 260-mph winds -- more than twice the punch Katrina delivered t
|
160274
|
Francesco needed a magnifying glass to read her little missives.
|
160230
|
|
160154
|
Cornelius van Linjpleel discovered and excavated for himself a lone Etruscan tomb not far from Populonia in 1898.
|
160161
|
Mr. Wazzeldot has seven legs. He lives very comfortably. He likes to sit by the fire. There's a large cushion for a chair, and in the evenings, he sips his Bloody Marys. I know because I visit him…
|
160154
|
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.
|
160120
|
The pier stretched out by where sharks came and men waited with beautiful dirty buckets that held strange and dangerous things, buckets with fish guts, buckets with blood, with character, buckets like prophets or a gritty desert walking saviour like Chris
|
1601119
|
The universe extracts no retribution./
It annihilates without a thought/
of evil/good, sin/virtue.
|
160154
|
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
|
160111
|
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.
|
160111
|
These were the kind of days children dreamed of. A warm sun shone over Coronado, California. December weather on the island did not prevent outside play. The wind off the bay remained soft, even if chilled. Church let out early. There was time to pla
|
160131
|
"do you know what your problem is when it comes to girls?"
she must mean other than the fact that they're all
completely insane. or at least all the ones i've dated.
|
16011110
|
That won’t kill me, will it? I asked. Maybe, the doctor said.
|
16011510
|
I didn't hear your last words or see your lasteyes. I didn't reach you in time, so I sat by your corpse,silently saying goodbye. I am in that process,not sour, not sweet, that yoked speaking which can't(because the heart won't let it) utter its whisperedlast word, but…
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160143
|
Until the ivy hides me in
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