1536 4 2
|
Stars fat as the stars that Van Gogh painted on his easel in Arles, a ring of candles burning on the brim of his hat. Stars that fill the night with delirium.
|
153622
|
Her memory was a faded pastiche of the past, and indeed the present sat uneasily in the middle of the dreams that governed her mind; so it was that often she would forget the day, the time, the year.
|
1536116
|
Today’s new YouTube kitten;
|
153676
|
"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."
|
153640
|
They keep
shining
against each
other
|
153676
|
The window washer started saving pigeons whose feet were wrapped in fine black thread, the result, he informed me, of picking through trash bins. They are very intelligent, he went on to explain. (Right, trash bins, I thought to myself.) People tend to av
|
153600
|
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
|
153654
|
“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.
|
153685
|
What fascinates me now is now, this instant, this moment. This fugitive, this delinquent, this indiscreet, this forever elusive now. Now now. Now is now and now it is not now. Now is the adversary of time.…
|
153622
|
Starry, Starry Night
we slept, talked and did the nasty
where I, in innocence once
built a raft of driftwood
to take me twenty miles across
to the shore from which we ferried
escaping my Father’s demise
|
153662
|
The goose on the roof isn’t aware it is doing anything odd...
|
153631
|
|
153697
|
Never mind that they cost millions per year just to amuse the monkey bone in us all or that they spew pollution or that their only real purpose is murder. They are justified by skill and thrill.
|
1536127
|
|
153632
|
The combined smells of ocean breeze, grilled cheese sandwiches, incense and sweat and burning herb that wafted over from Shakedown, along with windblown notes from tinny car speakers all rolled into a potent sensory cocktail he hadn’t tasted in far too l
|
153611
|
Charlie's recurring fantasy emerged from its hiding spot as he finished his fourth Old Fashioned. He'd be on his back; she'd be astride him. A strong, assertive young woman with her hands planted on his chest and her hair falling forward over her face.
|
153695
|
My life was growing on me like a soft Scottish moss
|
153653
|
—Jesus, a snoring cat. No wonder Alex put this cat outside.
|
153500
|
Mayumi and Emi were in the spring’s together, center of the pool at shoulder depth. Emi stood in the center, letting its warm and clean air clear out her thoughts.
|
153500
|
Sacrificial vic bleeds out . . .
|
153555
|
It is hunting season
in Jersey today.
They say
“There are too many deer
in Jersey today.”
|
153561
|
Fucking buffalo, the curse of the writer.
|
153574
|
Bill Watterson isn't just the creator of the world's best comic strip. According to the book “Looking for Calvin and Hobbes,” a biography of the elusive and reclusive cartoonist, Watterson is also a world-class introvert. Watterson refuses to make…
|
15352314
|
Life, like a kite string, is slipping out of
your hands
|
153523
|
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?
|
153585
|
My grandmother is magnificently breasted in her floor-length nightgown.
|
15351210
|
|
153587
|
How many shadows in your soul? Close your eyes, my love, let me / make you blind as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.
|
153500
|
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.
|
153500
|
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.
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