1433 7 5
|
o christ/ here you are again/ you sickness appearing in my brain/ pouring smog from my jaw/ my body hot and cold as though sleepless/ while i could sleep/ centuries/ undisturbed/ and awaken, tireder still./
|
143330
|
|
143210
|
When you see him, you'll know.That's what the prophecy was. Well, part of it, at least. The prophecy that Tabitha was to be the next Earth mother. That when she saw her partner, she would know. Keith, and his mission partner, and the elders, they had made it so. Made it…
|
143232
|
In retrospect, we should have been a cult.
|
143231
|
black
hair/ (damp)
around her ears
Keys on the
table
Drinking coffee
from a glass
|
14321212
|
I'm walking you / through Pere Lachaise
|
143200
|
They look like amateur beavers, all twenty-seven of them on their knees, gnawing through frosting bark. My wife is taking notes on a huge purple flower, listening to the kids as they shout out what tree corresponds to what flavor.
|
143273
|
I sat in the dark, mashing damp sand like clumps of brown sugar into my palm while the heavy Gulf air blew my hair into ropes. Sometimes I worried that I was unable to need people, but, as much as the thought upset me, I couldn't make myself truly want t
|
143243
|
Until the ivy hides me in
|
14322112
|
No twinkle- so, planet, not star./
And bright, so either Venus/
or Jupiter. I’m guessing, Jupiter.
|
143255
|
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.
|
143242
|
The following is a true story, or rather it is a true experience from the story of my life. Some say that just because something happens doesn’t really make it “true”.
|
143244
|
This story* is brought to you by
|
143222
|
The spirit bottles line the top of the bar
|
143222
|
When you're scared to write badly, that's when you write. You are probably trying to tell the truth.
|
143151
|
Nicole knows that Deirdre is winding up for the weekly pitch, practicing the line in her mind.
|
143176
|
men sitting on stoops
women earning the rent
by working as servants
in the rich folks yard
|
143184
|
I rifled through the bedside table until I found dirty magazines
|
143121
|
Mutiny is the last I remember.
|
143100
|
Welcome to the genocide city zone I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay We've been killing folks here All the live-long day If you want to join us You'll have to pay the price Your soul's the cost, so ante up C'mon and shoot the dice Welcome to the genocide city zone …
|
143142
|
When he was certain he was ready, he set out. The journey was arduous for a man of his years. Yet, he seemed to spring to it, like a dog to a bone. Maybe like a lion to it's prey; mostly in the best way possible for a man such as he.
|
143165
|
While the head of the KKK stands by
for the next order, ready to mete out
punishment, and smoking a cigar.
They are so efficient, like ex-Nazis.
|
143164
|
After the ship stopped shaking, the angry flashes of warning lights discontinued, a few people could be heard sobbing or whispering prayers.
|
143100
|
My tongue kept me from fitting in with the latinos. I understood little Spanish and spoke even less. No one really believed I was Mexican, and they kept me at a distance.
Or maybe I kept them at a distance. Living with
|
1431115
|
His grandmother's recipe called for the pasta dough to be beaten with a bone--and not just any bone either. It had to be a human femur. This was his first hurdle. Where would he get such a thing at this hour in this part of town? Or, for that matter, at any…
|
1431116
|
The question isn't whether we will survive-/
like rats, we are supremely adaptive-//
but whether we should survive.
|
143122
|
I have reasons to believe she’s been stealing.“
“Stealing what?”
“Steaks.”
“Steaks?”
|
143164
|
I allow myself one hour every two weeks. Devoting 335 of my 336 hours to her and the kids is beyond dutiful.
|
14311210
|
When his wife left him, a friend told him that resentments were like canceled checks. You weren't going to get your money back.
|
143187
|
How many shadows in your soul? Close your eyes, my love, let me / make you blind as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.
|
