1540 8 10
|
Life is not always quixotic.
|
154012
|
In exactly 100 words, I review the cracks between my keyboard keys.
|
154055
|
They were everywhere walking right above us or so it seemed, back and forth, back and forth with their lousy, crunching heels making hollow chewed up noises that took all the sweet sounds left on earth and had them march along…
|
1540115
|
In the darkness, as I awaken, an orange glowing 3:45 greets me . . .
|
154062
|
I was, so I was told, the product of much hard work and a lot of invasive procedures. Initially, I'm sure my parents were making love, but then came the slog, the repeated failed attempts at getting one of mother's millions of eggs fertilized. Those tadpoles just couldn't…
|
154034
|
When it was sticky cool at night, he'd pull her hair up off her neck and spin it like a pinwheel. “You could be anything," he would say. “You could be a preschool teacher.” She waited for him to add, “For dragons! For wallabees! For…
|
154072
|
My vagina invites you to a party
Whenever your time frees up
Or now,
Now would be better
|
154094
|
There was only the sound of crickets.
|
154054
|
|
154064
|
He injected her with a sedative to keep her still. He projected himself into her narcotic dream, a small bar with tango playing from a jukebox. They were dancing.
|
1540119
|
Listening is loving.
What is more erotic than
these fathoms, skeins, words,
roping tight the ardent ear.
|
1540106
|
We bought a grand piano at Steinway Hall after 9/11, chased uptown by the dust of death and awakening from dreams of miniature jumpers stuck in the icing of white wedding cakes
|
15401814
|
When I got home from work I parked my briefcase in the hall, acknowledged our dog and immediately went into the kitchen where wife, Sherry, was cooking supper. Without turning around at the sink, she said her usual, How was your day? I said, Fine, and yours? She turned…
|
1540118
|
He picked at his food. The teen-aged boys gnawed the bones. The conversation was nothing he was interested in. Chitchat and family jokes.
|
15391413
|
Magdalena White Herrington praised the lucky stars who’d sent her the Klonakilty ghosts.
|
153953
|
papaya over-ripe displayed on the half
with spoons sticking out -
” very ripe, tastes good “
blue crabs cooked with lavender
i was sniffing a spoonful when the chef came out
|
153911
|
|
153934
|
But what “is” retirement? All of the previous sections in a life are full of detailed descriptions. But “retirement” is somehow left rather vague. One would think that retirement would be the long-awaited GOAL of life. But instead we are left with the
|
153911
|
This morning, my band mates discussed their relationship deal breakers.
|
153998
|
I don't think you understand. A sad boy doesn't just die inside, slowly, he becomes withdrawn from certain types of lovely youthful reasoning out loud, accustomed to feeling what is expected, graded, just to be allowed to survive another…
|
153973
|
Look around you, see what you have built.
|
153943
|
the start of what you predicted
|
153922
|
Remembering you is easy
We do it every day,
When little Mike and Joey
Ask when the hell is Daddy ever coming home to play?
|
153811
|
Who hasn't got a scar...some flesh wound of memory.
|
153833
|
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.
|
153831
|
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.
|
153821
|
As the jughead turned with a humph the old man muttered, "what a jerk." The jughead spun around and glared at the young black man and said, "Did you say that?" The old man laughed, raised his hand, looked up at the jughead and said, "I did." The jughead t
|
153876
|
Only blood I got on me was pulling him over onto my seat when I got out.
|
153875
|
And right there beside me
That single wobbling
Snail-like trail of my heavy
French Horn case
|
153875
|
He knows why I’m here, so he stalls, talking about the coffee, about how it’s a new dark blend from a little shop in The Village, about how he loves the flavor, so rich, but just because a coffee is dark doesn’t mean it’s stronger, that, in fact, it’s the
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