1524 3 2
|
“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.
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152450
|
I made her a mix tape. It was revolutionary. Twenty-two songs she had to hear at least once in her life. I even drew some trippy drug-like designs on the label of the CD to make it seem more real. It was the ocean and the sun and every body of land balled up…
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152400
|
The old man moved on an automatic wheelchair. He stopped just short of Sora. He waited for her to move, but all she did was shed one tear.
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152400
|
One minute Rudy was sitting up close to me, asking me how could Geppetto make a little boy out of a piece of wood, and the next, Steve was pounding up the stairs, yelling, "Carla, get blankets, warm clothes; we're leaving, we won't be back."
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152464
|
bassackward/in the surreal/bathroom mirror
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152431
|
My mind raced at the endless possibilities one could die while driving to get a pizza.
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1524188
|
Jesus is for sale. But he’s heavy.
|
1524105
|
addict for validation and cat tongues
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152332
|
We’re not like a lot of your fly-by-night disease-based charities. Every pence we raise goes directly to St. Bartholomew’s, where 90% of it ends up in the pockets of doctors so they can buy expensive horses.
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152331
|
I’ve got a full day ahead of me; I have to write a brief in Lipshutz v. Fredbird, a property damage claim against the St. Louis Cardinals’ mascot for breaking a fan’s glasses as part of his routine.
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152321
|
The elders of the town will tell you that as soon the prophet mill arrived everything went to Hell. Before the process was streamlined, prophets used to be grown organically in the community. They popped up only where the ground was tilled and a prayer was planted. They…
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152384
|
even from the moon our planet’s truth has not been seen.
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152310
|
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.
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152321
|
On the other pillow is a ladybird which escaped from a dream. It reminds me of when I was a tiny red polka dot. And then bigger, and other colours. And then… I stare at the ceiling, searching its soul for little things. The ladybird touches my arm, whispers…
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152310
|
In the last test Anna barely managed to stay within the limit, but right now she had problems with her father in law who’s been luring her husband into alcohol, and with her husband who’s been luring the father in law into drugs.
|
152352
|
They build them high they do in Waveland, Mississippi.The tall houses with their skinny thighs spread wide flirting with the dusky coast, like antebellum ladies petticoats lifted, stockings wetted, ankles bared, savingtheir hems from the unpredictable tide,…
|
152354
|
If I do not hear you leaving by the door... The nearness here of this yet questions when I know you will not come so back again, Nowise the same as you were there before. My own reflection, centred at its core On knowing each …
|
1523108
|
|
1523109
|
Margaret will take her seven away from his raging Irish hammers slurry Saturday night honks smashing red eyes. They'll board a secret train countryside bound where they sing the songs of her own dead Mam who lived poor in the world but…
|
152355
|
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.
|
152344
|
However could anyone get Joyce scholarship mixed up with physical anthropology?
|
1523117
|
He flipped through a book of poems Ani’d given me. Nothing fell out so he tore it in two. I said his mama must notta read to this one and one of the older cops laughed and he hit me.
|
152342
|
You want to get laid talking socks
|
152343
|
1. Walking here
with you
on these narrow
strands
of clean air
& imagination
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1522114
|
He is leaning back against a pillar watching the dancing; a spectator to joy – both planned and spontaneous – that’s unfolding in bodies fourteen and fifteen years old in front of him.
|
152287
|
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
|
152241
|
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
|
152222
|
Tomorrow, they'd bury their daughter . . . and still, so many questions. Why would a beautiful fourteen-year-old choose for herself such a horrible, painful death? In life, she appeared the antithesis of suicidal ideation: excellent grades, well-liked in school and…
|
152210
|
“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.”
|
152241
|
Byron's achievement, certainly quite remarkable, is to have raised the drunken monologue to a literary form.
Edmund Wilson
|
