1521 3 1
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My dad was an Army Reservist stationed in the U.S.—New York and Texas—the bugler in his corps. He golfed on summer weekends at Hazeltine in the course of his career. I had seen houses water colored prettily within the lines on L.S.D., after noticing not
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152111
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152112
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In exactly 100 words, I review the cracks between my keyboard keys.
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152120
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The gentleman is discreet, but his eyes wander from his paper at intervals as we travel together from London to Manchester. We happen to be on the same train and he happens to be sitting opposite me. I happen to be a size 34C.
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1521158
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i hear the boom boom boom
in the room room room
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152161
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money ain't nothin next to lovin.
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152121
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Everything seems still, but it's not.
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1521146
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The white space beckons-/
a blank wall in a decrepit neighborhood-/
wishing to be decorated or defiled
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152174
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My work is not that sexy and glamorous kind of time travel that you see in the movies with Deloreans and phone booths.
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152176
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Only blood I got on me was pulling him over onto my seat when I got out.
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152121
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His voice isn't familiar but his words are. He says he knows we haven't spoken in years and apologizes for it. I can hear him pacing on the other end of the line, tapping things and then a shriek of glass shattering. Really, I tell him, no need to…
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152165
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"People are stupid. They've always been stupid. But these days...." His voice trailed off. "Dumb and dumber, huh?" the Boss asked. Peter nodded.
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152142
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He arrived at Bellevue hospital in a straight jacket bound to a gurney.
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15211311
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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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152165
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Do you want this, you ask, and hand me a blue silk shirt of hers
with small yellow flowers. I'm afraid to say no,
in case it makes you remember all over again.
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152121
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My father had a terrific argument with his wife, my stepmother, a flaming harridan with a voice like hydrochloric acid, and insisted on driving me back home to California.
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152134
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Carl’s peculiarity of toilet paper rolls is not covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act – he’s looked it up.
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152066
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Okay, so it's not exactly the lost art of sweeping anything away . For the sad fact that no one searing Love endures just for us. Brown, folded Petals, yellows buttered over petals, I do not Wait to see if the floating moon Can at…
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152053
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The bar was dark and a little dirty, and that suited Splinker's mood just fine.
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15201413
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Magdalena White Herrington praised the lucky stars who’d sent her the Klonakilty ghosts.
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1520810
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Life is not always quixotic.
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152033
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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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152042
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Before I grew used to it
I would wake to the sound
of the Amtrak whistle
echoing down along the tracks
behind our trailer park
and wonder who was hurtling where
through the dark night and across
this wide Illinois prairie
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152000
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The temperature would drop rapidly once the sun hit the horizon. I had about an hour before this would happen. I stood and put on my coat. The fire had gone out. There was no smoke...
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1520125
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She sometimes ate her dinner standing up, in front of her living room window.
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1520139
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Remember the equatorial heat, the flies,/
the lurking hum and scream of jungle,/
the squalor? Remember the functionary.
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152031
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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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152044
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I chose coming away because here at least I feel good — and it makes me feel I am growing very tall and straight inside — and very still — Maybe you will not love me for it — but for me it seems to be the best…
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152075
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And right there beside me
That single wobbling
Snail-like trail of my heavy
French Horn case
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152061
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You're on the good side of thirty, probably with a little girl or boy of your own sleeping at home, and here you are dragnetting at three in the morning. We're all broken, and the scars we trade are all that remains of our fragile, once complex lives.
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