1553 11 5
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So I told her
think of it this way:
you’re my unlived life.
|
155311
|
…like candy and puke on your tongue, the fakest broad ever, cruising like a busted prow, busted wheel, mast and stem, these stately wrecks and rotten flowers of perfume and the deadly bitchiness of the modern woman’s expectations.
|
155331
|
We sat quietly in my truck. My lit cigarette twitched between my lips. Samantha and I stared at the front door of Planned Parenthood in Worcester.
|
155398
|
Years later he surveys this place again to post something, anything. He plays "sex on fire," sounds that once fueled him. Now he knows the song is about VD, not unbridled potency. Names and words all seem at once familiar and numbing and noise. He once wanted fame or…
|
155300
|
A pair of flowers leaned on each other, almost holding one another, their petals hanging off by the edge. Emi touched one of the petals to hold it up, but the dark mist appeared and made it fall off.
|
155385
|
1I'VE BEEN looking though books of paintings and I've been thinking …
|
155310
|
“Eat more bugs,” said an old one.
|
155311
|
If I floated about this coffee cafe,Like a spirit, just watching.In this room of framed fake memories,A room of ambient light, marketing to the masses,(It works; it gets 'em in the doors.)If I floated, I'd seeThese people sitting—eating, drinking, sipping, typing,…
|
155353
|
—Jesus, a snoring cat. No wonder Alex put this cat outside.
|
155210
|
Read signs sometimes and you just might get where you're trying to go. When Eddie suggested they stop for a Whopper, Dennis said no. "Fuck Burger King, man. Let's get that Wendy's up there." They got…
|
155255
|
It is hunting season
in Jersey today.
They say
“There are too many deer
in Jersey today.”
|
155252
|
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,…
|
155223
|
One of the publishing industry’s dirty little secrets is that first novels sell much better than second novels. So why not enhance your chances for success by calling your second novel your first?
|
155264
|
After the ship stopped shaking, the angry flashes of warning lights discontinued, a few people could be heard sobbing or whispering prayers.
|
155254
|
“I’m going,” O’Bannon-Krim says with exasperation as she throws trinkets such as Dylan Thomas beer coozies and Edna St. Vincent Millay hair scrunchies into a cardboard box.
|
15521111
|
Why do people kill themselves with food? It’s obvious, I suppose. They’re hungry.
|
155263
|
. . . 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 . . .
|
155222
|
Many weddings took place at the foot of the Astronomical Clock Tower. One every hour, on the hour. It turned out these were set-up photo shoots for things like men’s cologne, brocade bridal gowns, and smoked carp. At night we wandered around the many
|
155200
|
Nurse Smithers straightened Dr. Baumgartner’s feathered head dress. it had slipped down below the caduceus so carefully painted on his forehead by the medical ritual staff.
|
1552119
|
For Sale: Clean Depends, Never Worn
|
155254
|
I smell it, it smells/Of giggles and leg shaking
|
155121
|
Her eyeballs are made of fur, like plush little bumblebees at home in her sockets.
|
155162
|
George was the biggest coward alive. But he was too afraid to admit it. But that therein was his cowardice. He couldn't face the truth. He couldn't face his weakness. It made him uncomfortable, the thought that he might need to change.
|
155122
|
|
155142
|
Downton Abbey and The Beverly Hillbillies. They're practically the same show.
|
155132
|
On shingle of seashells &
Bullet shells,
Ghosts drift along the shore
Of the Black Sea.
|
155122
|
I have reasons to believe she’s been stealing.“
“Stealing what?”
“Steaks.”
“Steaks?”
|
155187
|
How many shadows in your soul? Close your eyes, my love, let me / make you blind as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.
|
15511312
|
Times were tough back then. Just a few jobs. This was in the late thirties. It's the story of how Albert hooked up with Iris. Their unlikely meeting took place when they met out on the Highway 61 right-of-way just outside of Natchez, Mississippi, each trying to hitch…
|
155061
|
I’m trying to get this said, this piece of fact. If I am a person who can own something, then that something that I own is not me, not me as a person. I do not own my foot, my foot is my own. It’s like a whatsit, a semantic distinction I’m trying to
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