1621 10 9
|
He just up and dropped dead one day, Charles said. Pretty tough on Karen, I opined. Charles looked the other way.
|
162162
|
The goose on the roof isn’t aware it is doing anything odd...
|
162152
|
Last night I dreamt of water rose too high.
|
162032
|
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.
|
1620710
|
From room to room, neither closet nor drawer contained any remnant of pleasant memory.
|
162061
|
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…
|
162077
|
to have something, but I don't think you need anything from me. There are poems that belong in your hair and no one else's. They should be like stars that only appear every one thousand years or so, then can only be seen when you are…
|
162054
|
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…
|
162084
|
I rifled through the bedside table until I found dirty magazines
|
162033
|
I am speeding on the highway at 2AM because no one is here...
|
162077
|
If something hurts enough/
you never forget it. Like the//
toothache when you first learned
|
162000
|
Warranties are what made America great, although hers has expired and the mailbox will remain empty for another fifteen days.
|
1620125
|
The moon poured more/
light into the sky/
yet we kept on talking
|
162066
|
I hear
the shriek
of the Laughing Lady
|
162033
|
In a dazzle of emerald softness, it flew out into the breeze wanting for the red apple in the tree just outside my window. The power had gone out, spare change to total meltdown, and the air inside was stifling, thick with mind-numbing languor and mosquitoes. So I…
|
161921
|
Her eyeballs are made of fur, like plush little bumblebees at home in her sockets.
|
161942
|
Anatoly Gringovitch was listening to the dress rehearsal of Hausenstockmann’s Constellations at Auditorium Rainier III in Monte Carlo.
|
161943
|
some days you wake up/ to feel horror/ wrapped beneath your blanket./
|
16191110
|
They wanted to go fresh water fishing, so I had to buy worms. None there in the saltwater town. Drove about 10 miles over the long bridge to cross the bay. I'd been there before. Walked in and a crusty, little skinny man got up from his chair. He: Watcha need? Me: Fresh…
|
161963
|
. . . music and dance, theatrical performance of tragedies and comedies . . . a primeval orientation, celebrating the cultivation of herbs and vines . . . ritualistic use of intoxicants, to remove inhibitions, to liberate participants . . .
|
161821
|
Welcome to OTHERS. A place where I hope you will experience the enchantment of a time and place like no other
MATTITUCK 1971
LIKE YOU NEVER KNEW IT
|
161895
|
"I wanted to see cities whose names sounded like sad sighs...Oaxaca, Guanajuato, Reynosa, Camargo..."
|
161832
|
|
161886
|
My uncle lived part-time in prison, in a cell with a blanket, pillow, and towel. The remainder of his days he lived in a small house on Prospect Street.
|
161877
|
The light on his face from a lamp,
felt hat with a black band scrunched down,
the light on his face as though thrown there,
the nose creating a strong shadow,
with dark, straight eyebrows under the hat,
red and orange beard.
Leaning forwar
|
161700
|
Alysia grabbed her luggage and rolled it behind her. Looking up at the sky, it was nighttime. She could see the crescent moon above, adding to the darkness.
|
16171311
|
He sat at the bar and waited for her. He looked at the noon drinkers with indifferent eyes.
|
161755
|
Life is easier for the handsome. /
They are more pleasant to deal with.
|
161776
|
The faces of the sun remain unaltered across the
seven day forecast.
I am sweat-glued to a poem, looking up at the
wall-mounted TV in a diner in the Valley
|
1617116
|
Is this a place to show posterity and mortality?
|
