1602 5 2
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But I think what I remember most was Lynda really letting me have it. “Right now I’m seeing this married farmer out in Western Illinois. I met him at this bar out there called the Peppermint Lounge. Boy, they sure know me out there! Funny how every town
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1602910
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1602119
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Listening is loving.
What is more erotic than
these fathoms, skeins, words,
roping tight the ardent ear.
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160242
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Frank shouldered his backpack, grabbed the leather satchel packed with his brushes, palette knives, pens, and pencils, and exited the vaporetto at the Rialto Bridge.
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160232
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He is an exercise in humility:What I cannot have or be. The chances of our meetingand his perfection are darkly astronomical. There are plenty of otherswhose riches I cannot have,why envy him?We are similar in spritbut have different fortunes.It is unfair and…
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160232
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Boil (n.)––1. Pus-filled pustule inflammation of the skin, usually painful. 2. Slang boiled pus, bucket of (n. phrase)“Your asshole brain is a bucket of boiled pus.” (see also pus, SCOTTISH derogatory term for face.
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1601127
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She has dwindled for the better part of a year, staved off her period, breasts and hips like a warrior. Chestnut strands that danced along candy apple cheeks now surrender to metal pins, her bun severe as an old maid's. Her prominent ears…
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160132
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He nodded six times, and waged his stubby fingers repeatedly, forgetting she was simply two wags of the forefinger and a thin waif of girl came running over.
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160133
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I know who done it. Them goddamn taters. I walked around the yard and started picking up pieces of the camaro, wondering if, from above, they’d laid the parts out into some kinda cult symbols or something.
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160112
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In exactly 100 words, I review the cracks between my keyboard keys.
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160131
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Alcohol and American writers have always had a connection–about 70 percent of American winners of the Nobel Prize for Literature could be considered heavy drinkers if not more.
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1601103
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Words are looking ever so strange today
like a hole in space
a wind in a cloud
a face superimposed over a mountain
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160131
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The ticking must have gone on for an hour before Kathy realized it wasn't a clock. When the line finally moved, the rhythm changed. When the queue stopped again, she glanced behind her and noticed a woman in torn jeans and a filthy sweater tapping a heel on the…
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160144
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This story* is brought to you by
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160155
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If we go back in time
We are living in tents
If we go back in time
We are living in caves
We are fighting over rivers
We are fighting over fields
Near the soft edges of slime
If we go back in time
Nothing would have us
And we had t
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160143
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We came to the dump at dusk to shoot rats.
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160165
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Mice dreams are a reality ...
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16011110
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160052
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I am not covetous for catnip,
Nor care where I sleep at night.
It irks me not who takes my
Favorite chair, or swats me off a table.
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160066
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Divine guidance. That's why Dad used a blowtorch to set the jug on fire, its contents the “Devil's elixir.”
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160022
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Sounds terrific, but are there any strings attached?
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1600127
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The abundances of age/
are of commodities/
no known demographic values:
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160045
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I lost a baby two years ago. At 8.5 weeks after seeing her heart beat. I haven't been able to talk about it, but I can write about it. My throat cracks and splinters when I begin to form a thought or word or phrase. I took such great care when…
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160030
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Quantum transport rearranges grandma.
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160031
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Today is my birthday. Well, my assembly date, anyway.
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160032
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Lama’s mother is dead. She died when Lama was just outgrowing her ballet tutus. When Lama talks about it, it is with the air of one who picks honeysuckle over jasmine. It gives sunshine, she says, to graves. Our epitaphs are so mechanical otherwise.
Un
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160000
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‘It's perfect,' said Maggie as she lay in the casket. Harold Barnes offered his hand. ‘It's a shame he never got to see it,' Maggie continued as she climbed free of the coffin.
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16001610
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Lavender, a Liberal Betty, batty from hormones, in a fanciful fit, named her daughter Lavender. Husband Don winced. Brothers Donald, John, Billy, and Tom were puzzled and pleased by this sister, this girl, who was a little bit like them, yet not like them at…
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16001710
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I packed food for a lifetime, clothes and boots, all the guns, and the audio of our poetry...
|
160000
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Silence overtakes her, the bellowing has ceased. Curious, she thinks, could this be causation or merely correlation? Assuming the former, Hailey moves, swiftly, being sure only to place her weight down when red carpet is underneath her feet. This works.
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