1625 2 3
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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?
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1625 5 5
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In an authentic Irish pub in Las Vegas where over much crowd noise the three of us are discussing Yeats, Joyce and Lady Gregory. We’re in an Irish pub after all, plus the fact we’re literature profs attending a Vegas academic conference.
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1625 10 9
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He just up and dropped dead one day, Charles said. Pretty tough on Karen, I opined. Charles looked the other way.
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1625 5 1
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Juan’s tío, Richard, who works for the city and is the kind of Mexican who thinks he isn’t, took care of the lawyer. Juan checks himself in the mirror, didn’t know how good dressing fancy would feel.
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1625 3 2
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...I’m honest enough to know that fucking around has never been accidental or unplanned. Every time I did it, even in the rock bottom throes of esteem, sobriety, and life, yes, even on the brink of suicide, I knew exactly what I was doing...
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1625 8 6
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...the scream and the face...
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1624 6 1
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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…
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1624 0 0
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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.
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1624 9 5
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"I wanted to see cities whose names sounded like sad sighs...Oaxaca, Guanajuato, Reynosa, Camargo..."
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1624 3 3
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I am speeding on the highway at 2AM because no one is here...
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1624 6 3
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It is not unusual to see Göttwigg with his shirt on inside out.
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1624 15 2
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It was Fredrick Miller, not his murdered son Matthew, who was executed Monday night at Henshaw Prison. (the system won't take anything under 200 characters, so this part is just to take up space. please ignore)
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1624 6 3
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. . . 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 . . .
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1623 3 2
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1623 7 6
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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
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1623 8 4
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I rifled through the bedside table until I found dirty magazines
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1623 2 0
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You held my hand when I hit the ground and told me the shakes would start soon.
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1623 1 1
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Clouds quickly appeared, in a perfect peach sky. Big, puffy clouds, moving together, formed the shape of a heart.
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1623 1 1
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Love needs loathing like cold weather needs warm clothing. And all truths, untruths and part truths need a place to live when a mind gets too sardine-packed with information and cynicism...
Some say there was a time when the light was brighter, the ear
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1623 6 2
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The goose on the roof isn’t aware it is doing anything odd...
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1623 7 7
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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
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1623 5 3
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This woman is naked to the waist and then nakeder below that.
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1623 1 1
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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,…
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1622 5 5
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Life is easier for the handsome. /
They are more pleasant to deal with.
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1622 4 4
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Once there was a real honest to God holy spiritout there that was a gift of loving kindness meant for everyone to share; unfortunately, it was given to all the wrong people, or the wrong people simply stole it. Either way the wrong people are…
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1622 4 3
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some days you wake up/ to feel horror/ wrapped beneath your blanket./
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1622 6 6
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I hear
the shriek
of the Laughing Lady
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1622 2 1
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"In the grave my lips will still be moving."
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1621 3 2
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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.
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1621 8 6
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