1544 6 4
|
Saturday afternoons: tartan blanket spread on the pebble beach, transistor radio hissing static, fish paste sandwiches and seagulls. Why fish paste, Mum? She didn't dare ask.
|
154472
|
When Mr. Hawk died, he discovered something. Heaven was like being the library forever. Hell was like being in the library forever. Only one of those places had Ava Gardner.
|
154441
|
This artist has a wonderful sense of line and color. Abstract is not my métier, but I appreciate the art behind this painting. It helps to copy it. You sleep with it for a time and, like a woman, you learn her passions and taboos.
|
154443
|
Some guys ride hills up and down,
Then stop to terrorize small towns.
|
154465
|
The world is crazy that way— two people close to me gone around the same time and I'm supposed to go on and on like those dryers and smile still and do my schoolin' still ...
|
154430
|
A young woman is seated center stage. She is pretty, dressed in a short nightgown. She sits nervously, her body tense and expectant.
|
154331
|
|
154355
|
This morning I found
A big black crow
Working over a flattened
Squirrel in the middle
Of the road
First day of winter
Longest night
Shortest day
No problem
The rest of the year
Should be a breeze
|
1543105
|
Bottom's up, mon cherie. On land, I'll grab mine with two hands. But in water, boy, I'm weightless and turning, a regular fish -- afloat, flopping, deboned.
|
154320
|
“Each animal has its own strength.” She insisted. “And if the rooster were provoked. It would kill a snake.”
|
154362
|
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…
|
154310
|
“Bound to happen,” Marny said. “The way he went on; no doubt he'd end up like this.” Few folks sitting around in a one room shack. Walls were weather stained slats; the door, the only opening. Their fans flapping the air in their…
|
154310
|
I thought I would write a poemAbout a saguaro trying to please God The saguaro would spend a hundred yearsGrowing an arm and offering flowers in its fist —God barely notices. The saguaro flowers a crown for God.More arms. God then loses his patience…
|
154334
|
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…
|
154372
|
My vagina invites you to a party
Whenever your time frees up
Or now,
Now would be better
|
154375
|
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
|
1543119
|
Listening is loving.
What is more erotic than
these fathoms, skeins, words,
roping tight the ardent ear.
|
154343
|
It's none of my business,
where Carl puts his prick.
But I know one thing;
Them Bohunk women go to pot quick.
|
154363
|
I feel so glamorous when I talk to Andy on the phone
|
154211
|
Who hasn't got a scar...some flesh wound of memory.
|
154211
|
|
1542810
|
Life is not always quixotic.
|
154233
|
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.
|
154255
|
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…
|
154222
|
Sounds terrific, but are there any strings attached?
|
154220
|
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.
|
154231
|
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.
|
154221
|
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
|
154294
|
There was only the sound of crickets.
|
154232
|
His eyes were marbles floating over a void.
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