1548 4 3
|
some days you wake up/ to feel horror/ wrapped beneath your blanket./
|
154800
|
What time is it? 3:47. Adam says before 5 is too early. Maybe he should stay home with our daughters once in a while. Let’s see him make it to 5 o’clock. It is Friday. I’ll mix it with orange juice. He never notices.
I better check on Debra.
|
154800
|
That Orndoff! I'd like to shove that pipe of his up his arse.
|
154876
|
Steven was a hollow tree of a man — outwardly normal for a tired fortysomething, but empty inside. He lived alone in an old farmhouse that reeked of decomposition and Lysol, the previous tenant having left a dozen skinned raccoon carcasses in the attic.
|
154865
|
I'm in love with Uzma Goef, a beautiful young woman less than half my age.
|
154811
|
“You need to keep a close vigil on your X-Ray binaries from the Sun. The star and its blazing temperature could spill over at its outer-most edges. The material would be such a high temperature; it would destroy all life on your planet, and…
|
154800
|
This had the unintentional effect of me picturing her in a tight white top and tiny orange shorts. From up close like this, I had clearly misjudged her earlier. She could definitely be more than the quirky best friend in my movie.
|
154887
|
How many shadows in your soul? Close your eyes, my love, let me / make you blind as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.
|
154800
|
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.
|
1548119
|
For Sale: Clean Depends, Never Worn
|
1548105
|
Chuck woke when he smelled cooking.
|
154722
|
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.
|
154732
|
|
154720
|
Time stole you from underneath the goldendock. Writhing there, slick as a flapping tongue;lips gored, red, whose gaping could embolden weak hands behind the blazing buck blade, long ago pierced in your summer quietus, beneath the soft shade of a tackle box, as the…
|
154744
|
Originally designed for para-morticians and pre-professional undertakers, the Protocol has now been certified and approved for over-the-counter purchase and is completely safe (check local regulations for sales to minors: not approved for veterinary use).
|
154785
|
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.…
|
154722
|
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
|
154732
|
“There is no future in art,
you will not change lives
with flowery words.
Please don’t rock the boat”
|
154743
|
It was bound to happen. Even celebrities can only take so much. The constant comparisons to Christ (people still think He was born in December), assumptions that he was anti-Semite or anti-Islam, and accusations from PETA, now ad litem for…
|
154785
|
1I'VE BEEN looking though books of paintings and I've been thinking …
|
154711
|
feet soft as eyelids on the tarmac
|
154710
|
“Eat more bugs,” said an old one.
|
15471510
|
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.
|
1547103
|
It performs the dialectic that intertwines real and ideal through her mounting concern about being choked to death then eaten by a very large pig.
|
154661
|
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
|
154663
|
It was that pink lipstick found
on the end of that brown filter
yeah, think it was an Old Gold
|
1546216
|
She hasn't called me in days. Before calling her, I search my memory for something romantic to say. Shakespeare's Sonnet 73 says exactly what I'm thinking. But she doesn't need to hear it. She already knows, as all human efforts come to an end, my core energies are tapering…
|
1546105
|
Two types coexist- the sanguine/
and exsanguinated./
My skin is cool/
and pale as moonlight
|
154640
|
They keep
shining
against each
other
|
15461210
|
"S- E- X -- ever heard of it?"
|
