1498 9 4
|
When it starts looking bad enough, I bundle up and head out the door.
|
149800
|
He reached into the bag on the table and pulled out a ten inch record, sleeved in brown paper, with a circle cut out to display the label information. He handled it delicately, like a fresh egg.
|
14981211
|
Wanna,wanna, whoop de loop. Hold my baby, kiss my mom, dance the way I used to do. Desktops, blacktops, cut and paste, speed down hills, learn the rules, Sister Saint Marion, married to Christ. Sixteen, life-green, pink tights, Swan Lake, an…
|
1498128
|
The slicing is easy. Blade barely touching skin, flesh separating into two clean parts. A breath, and blood fills in the space, an old friend materializing in the shadows. I am redolent with hope and desire. I can't stop thinking of how he excised himself from my…
|
149844
|
This story* is brought to you by
|
149831
|
What follows is one of those moments, though to some people, it would seem a fantasy, perhaps a "Wizard of Oz" era tale.
|
149862
|
The goose on the roof isn’t aware it is doing anything odd...
|
14981510
|
The Plaza had a chess-board floor, green wood booths, and the lights stayed up. I might be combining a memory of Fitzie's in Binghamton. The Plaza felt like a preppy soda fountain with beer.
|
1498219
|
Polite society will cheer/
as another body is discovered//
and disposed of. The cheers/
will drown out the gasps
|
149722
|
I am a human resource, batteries not included
|
149721
|
Winter makes me reconsider.
|
149700
|
She didn't want to let go of the crumpled tissue she had been holding all this time, as it is wrong to litter, but she finally did, and felt free. Released. Bad. Naughty. Almost orgasmic.
|
149766
|
Divine guidance. That's why Dad used a blowtorch to set the jug on fire, its contents the “Devil's elixir.”
|
149776
|
"I tell you about ten other men
who want to love me and two I could kiss
in the smoking room of a jazz club,
you wonder if I’d love anyone."
|
1497146
|
He hates this body no less now/
than he did at 14 for its pudginess/
and the hair that can’t conform
|
149721
|
Jill's number was flashing on Carol's caller ID. Jill, the baby sister she had practically raised after their mother died of a stroke when Carol was 12. It had been months since they'd talked. Jill had been avoiding Carol because Jill's idiot husband Mark…
|
149700
|
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.
|
149732
|
Momma pointed out our paintings on the walls, the signs we had learned, but when Daddy saw our friends, their wheelchairs, braces on their legs, he left...
|
149653
|
and watched you grinning from your opulent spinning cages and although you were never less than always remarkably perfumed, toappeal I'm guessing to the sniffing about masses, to me they've…
|
149651
|
Nicole knows that Deirdre is winding up for the weekly pitch, practicing the line in her mind.
|
149653
|
Either it was rescue--if the customer was alive to be found--or recovery, the term for bringing out the dead.
|
1496116
|
Even in the fading light, it looked big enough to disembowel a man.
|
149655
|
|
149655
|
|
149661
|
Fucking buffalo, the curse of the writer.
|
149662
|
The sting of a slap will be remembered, as will sex, or at least a fragment of it, such as the face of a man in your room who tied your hands with the belt of your plush terry bathrobe.
|
149698
|
we name invasive species,
|
149610
|
I don't know when it was I first stumbled across your blog. I know I definitely must've followed the link on your twitter profile, but how I found you in the first place, I have no idea. But fate works in mysterious ways, I suppose. I remember I then visited your blog every…
|
149665
|
just another torn & burning journeyflag for the rebel heart. All we know forsure is that dancing among the toads andcrickets takes a bit of courage. Beauty takesreal living guts these days. Laughing takes guts,too. Living takes love. Love is feeling. What'dyou think I…
|
149632
|
“There is no future in art,
you will not change lives
with flowery words.
Please don’t rock the boat”
|
