1576 4 4
|
I assume the shape of a pronoun.
|
157632
|
Instead, I get things like,
“Why can’t you find a nice man with cancer or a bum leg?”
|
157640
|
We’re more into the punishment that works its way in through the skin and coats the heart anonymously.
|
157655
|
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.
|
157654
|
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,…
|
15762110
|
The fly comes in against my will/
and hers. She would prefer/
the wider world with its piles of shit
|
157652
|
Hissing through the opening, the spirits have no place.
|
157676
|
will we begin again?We are a wheelFirst touchfirst kissfirst heatThey fade, disappear, come back again.Spokes in our wheel.When again shall we begin again?I hold you and feel myself spincaught in the whirlwind of thrill -the world, saturated with your scent.We hold each…
|
157663
|
It’s that laugh of hers that gets me...
|
1576157
|
Mark Reep is a faded Polaroid oracle taped to the only unbroken window of an abandoned house in Ithaca NY.
|
15761610
|
Shadows are so admirable in film noir
less so on x-rays and mammograms
|
157684
|
The coal carts come and go like the seasons, never stopping.
|
157674
|
Francesco needed a magnifying glass to read her little missives.
|
157561
|
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…
|
157532
|
I unwrap my #4, the greasy smell wafting over my nostrils, and I pause, with the understanding that this will be the highlight of my day, and that I should savor the moment, and then I bite in.
|
157560
|
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.
|
157530
|
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…
|
157585
|
It's all over now, Baby Blue...
|
15751210
|
|
157584
|
even from the moon our planet’s truth has not been seen.
|
157554
|
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.
|
157510
|
We're doomed as a species. The Zorks are coming to eat us. It all started when Joey Cacciatore, the dumbest crook in the history of the world, got Veetzers swarming like blowflies in 1972, and thereby ensured the upcoming…
|
157594
|
Later, when she said she'd had miscarriages, I should have put it all together.
|
1575127
|
Mercury and Gemini disappointed.
|
157576
|
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…
|
157554
|
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…
|
157543
|
What follows is an interview George Bush gave to Barbara Walters in 2006. He came off like something out of a swamp. Dick Cheney made them deep-six the tapes and we never saw it on prime time. I got the transcript, however,…
|
157554
|
This is why the earth revolves around the sun: refrigerator magnets.
|
157553
|
Buyers of freelance writing have a well-deserved reputation for responding slowly, thereby increasing your pleasure in much the same way that the Pointer Sisters longed for a slow hand.
|
157565
|
What a nation!
First we lost our money
Now we’ve lost our funny
|
