1570 2 0
|
This was just noise now – pure, raw noise, grabbed from their throats and flung high by some sharp claws of violence buried in their breasts. Even from his third floor apartment, they sounded like they were right outside his window now. It was if they h
|
1570 5 5
|
It is hunting season
in Jersey today.
They say
“There are too many deer
in Jersey today.”
|
1570 8 6
|
He fell through her scalp-crust
|
1570 0 0
|
Yes, my old uncle liked roses. Grew them. He had a way of smelling a rose—after he smelled a rose, you are surprised the rose is still there.
|
1570 4 1
|
Motionless seconds turned
|
1570 6 2
|
He's driving in the Sierra Nevada with his wife and their small daughters and the girls are fighting and he can't take much more of it.
|
1570 7 7
|
They say that inside the veins of every Bohemian
lies an entire army of dead alcoholics.
I suppose this is true of me too.
|
1570 9 8
|
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…
|
1570 4 1
|
The next moment is a convergence made from a single repeating sequence that disappears behind the voice that tells of it.
|
1570 5 4
|
I smell it, it smells/Of giggles and leg shaking
|
1570 7 5
|
Nine sated elephants and an ass sit around a decimated Thanksgiving table discussing the state of the union over the hacked to bits carcass of a twenty-three pound turkey. Two years in to The Great Communicator's Lame Duck term and the nine elephants, whose…
|
1570 5 3
|
—Jesus, a snoring cat. No wonder Alex put this cat outside.
|
1569 0 0
|
Martin Heidegger wore hearing protection out on the tarmac at JFK. The runways were broad and he danced and leapt with the freedom of a Cats performer while he guided planes to the terminal.
|
1569 13 5
|
|
1569 2 2
|
Secretly she suspected she was really a witch. She didn't have green skin or scraggly black hair, and certainly no flying monkeys. Maybe those came over time, the more bad things you did, the more ugly you became until all the world could see how horrible
|
1569 15 4
|
A delicate thrill buzzed my face.
|
1569 9 8
|
The Chicago to Denver fast train clocked 90 MPH plus, but braked hard on the long curve through town, sparks ringing flanged wheels.
|
1569 0 0
|
His name is Rick Reynolds. His name is Steve Redford.
|
1569 5 4
|
“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.
|
1569 6 3
|
It is not unusual to see Göttwigg with his shirt on inside out.
|
1569 2 2
|
I have reasons to believe she’s been stealing.“
“Stealing what?”
“Steaks.”
“Steaks?”
|
1569 15 2
|
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)
|
1569 11 9
|
For Sale: Clean Depends, Never Worn
|
1569 8 6
|
1. How can one begrudge the cracking open of a heart?When the lava love fire loaded insanity of self-control disappearsAnd the raw spewing beginsYou better be ready for the truthIt ain't gonna be prettyYou'll wish you were deadYou won't recognize where you areYou'll be…
|
1569 10 3
|
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.
|
1569 10 5
|
Chuck woke when he smelled cooking.
|
1568 0 0
|
Leaves clouded the air and piled in great brown heaps like rotted snow on the old Maine road, disturbed for the first time in months by a lone, black SUV. It plowed its way slowly across the asphalt, the black surface cracked and hoary with years of neglect, past…
|
1568 2 0
|
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…
|
1568 8 4
|
It’s just that—well, I don’t know how to put this—
With a Dadaist poet a non-affair is the height of erotic bliss.
|
1568 13 12
|
Let's say maybe you're in a place your mind has never left, and let's say maybe it's Mississippi, and let's say maybe it's summer with kudzu throbbing green all around you, and let's say maybe she's a Sagittarius girl, standing in that driveway with her young breasts…
|