1544 10 5
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Two types coexist- the sanguine/
and exsanguinated./
My skin is cool/
and pale as moonlight
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1544116
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Today’s new YouTube kitten;
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154411
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Five years ago—or maybe ten—I clipped an article containing a quote that has haunted and inspired me ever since, and tacked it to my wall. Describing the success of diplomats from nearly ninety nations to convene in Oslo, Norway, and agree on the wording
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154421
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This morning as I stepped out of the shower I was hit with a panicked fit in which it became urgent that I rid my flesh of each drop of water that burdened it. Not quite like the feeling of being…
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154461
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Fucking buffalo, the curse of the writer.
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154433
|
I didn’t see the little boy run up to Bandit until it was too late. The kid was about four and was excited to see such a big dog. He reached out his hand to pat Bandit’s head and Bandit lunged at him. The leash was wrenched from my hand, leaving a bloody
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154410
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Now Ninalee gets up from the table. She starts to put some snacks in a bag for Janny and Benjie, and some storybooks in there too, to read to them in the park: books about trains, mostly, and there’s one with a bus and one with a car...
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154432
|
Momma pointed out our paintings on the walls, the signs we had learned, but when Daddy saw our friends, their wheelchairs, braces on their legs, he left...
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154442
|
It was hard, in the crowded vacation house,
to make love as they would have alone.
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154431
|
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1544103
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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.
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154331
|
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1543119
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In the summer when it's light out later it's my nature to linger a couple of hours in the park after work, just standing around watching the Downtown Divas working the corner, offering themselves to each male driver who stops for the light and I always joke with them about…
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154320
|
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…
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154300
|
Sacrificial vic bleeds out . . .
|
154300
|
Detective-Sergeant Claude Mulvihill was seasick. He was in a New York City Harbor Police boat in the East River headed towards the George Washington Bridge. There was a good chop in the harbor, which became worse when the Police Boat reached the Battery.
|
154398
|
The Chicago to Denver fast train clocked 90 MPH plus, but braked hard on the long curve through town, sparks ringing flanged wheels.
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154363
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It is not unusual to see Göttwigg with his shirt on inside out.
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154333
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He had a simple dream: He wanted to become a star, and not one of those tv stars because those die, those die all the time, and before dying they usually become terrible shadows of their former selves, vile creatures who exploit their own former glory...
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154331
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What follows is one of those moments, though to some people, it would seem a fantasy, perhaps a "Wizard of Oz" era tale.
|
154385
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My grandmother is magnificently breasted in her floor-length nightgown.
|
154384
|
When the hay was ripe it stirred and rippled like water.
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154311
|
I like babies and little kids, more than some people but goddamn, children's laughter out of nowhere (in the night, when you're not expecting it) is creepy. I don't like slugs smeared like nightmare goo on my summer-bare feet, I could do without them in …
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154255
|
He’s more than a little pissed at all this eternal boulder rolling.
|
154287
|
For the first time in her life
She felt she understood
The smell of a man.
The smell of white tulips,
The taste of a persimmon
In her mouth.
She remembered how married she felt
To him, in that moment. How close
To the earth, and ancien
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154210
|
My famous ‘Black Feminist Casserole’ was soon renamed ‘34C casserole’.
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154288
|
I clearly see the squirrels of
negativity all around me
or at least I sense that
they are there,
filling in the blank spaces
as I read down the page
prior to arriving at
the meaning of everything.
The greenness of figs
before they
|
154244
|
Francesca is a sweet girl and everything, but her incessant doting on Paolo is best left private . . .
|
154274
|
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…
|
1542106
|
Tired, so tired of it all, but oh we'll always go on, won't we, still carrying on about the love the love the love we shared, only again and again. Ooh the oozing life blood is slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly now going to shit I say, practically…
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