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 6 6
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I hear
the shriek
of the Laughing Lady
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1623 13 11
|
I was always more comfortable with the ponies than you were / more comfortable with betting windows and two-dollar bills than you were
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1623 2 1
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"In the grave my lips will still be moving."
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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 2 0
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Rothko and Stella loved the beach. To Jalapeno it was just one big litter box and for her it held no great appeal. She sprawled sunbathing on the dashboard lifting a lid occasionally to watch Lauren riding a wave. The dogs delirious with freedom romped and chased tight…
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1623 13 12
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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…
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1623 5 3
|
This woman is naked to the waist and then nakeder below that.
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1622 8 5
|
The women were increasing their writing in the restroom. I asked you later why women only talk on restroom walls, and you said, why do men only talk on restroom walls? I told you as much as I could remember of what had been written.
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1622 13 6
|
Eric was born with three testicles.
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1622 2 1
|
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
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1622 13 11
|
He sat at the bar and waited for her. He looked at the noon drinkers with indifferent eyes.
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1622 4 2
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Anatoly Gringovitch was listening to the dress rehearsal of Hausenstockmann’s Constellations at Auditorium Rainier III in Monte Carlo.
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1622 2 1
|
Gert sat in the car and wiped at the inside of the window while the defroster blasted at full strength. The shards and slivers of ice that networked across the windshield were just thick enough to hinder visibility. Bane wrenched the door open and shoved
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1622 3 2
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On shingle of seashells &
Bullet shells,
Ghosts drift along the shore
Of the Black Sea.
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1622 4 2
|
My playing would falter languidly, and transcend itself like a wishful Nocturne
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1622 10 9
|
I don't need to be toldhow natural you are, not here.I'm reminded every singletime I open my eyes.What I want to know iswhere have you gone? Whyhas it taken you so verylong to return? But Iknow the answer. You aresomewhere fighting for your dearlife. It's what we all do--in…
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1622 9 7
|
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.
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1622 4 4
|
Feelin’, feelin’ good, down-fallin’ down/rain, rain, rain came today,/wet alfresco alchemy
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1621 7 5
|
Nothing changes; the moon arcs its mindful lemon eye. . .
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1621 11 6
|
Is this a place to show posterity and mortality?
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1621 2 0
|
More and more, as she watched him slide away from her in increments, she thought of that first summer together. How his searching hands would find her, any time of day, and pull her in for closer examination. How his eyes, his mouth, his tongue would set
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1621 5 4
|
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…
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1621 1 2
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She remembered how cold it was in the factory that day. A few of the high windows stood open as usual, necessary for ventilation when the machines were all running, when the concrete floors were packed with the sweating bodies of warm human workers. The
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1621 1 1
|
Route 346 is the way Pop drove to Troy long after everybody else took Route 2. Today Charlie and I drive in the opposite direction. Back then, Pop drove us to Troy on Route 346 on Sunday afternoons with the car windows…
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1621 0 0
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His name is Rick Reynolds. His name is Steve Redford.
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1621 3 1
|
Let's start from the beginning. Your mother's face in the phone. Your parted lips. Your surprised tongue. Hands deep in the folds of your skirt. The poet filling your pockets with blue and orange. The poet filling your notebooks with slowly drifting fields and gramophones…
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1621 8 6
|
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.
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1621 3 1
|
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.
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1621 8 4
|
When the hay was ripe it stirred and rippled like water.
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