1559 1 0
|
[WARNING: DO NOT OPEN UNTIL 'R XMAS!]
|
155943
|
Some guys ride hills up and down,
Then stop to terrorize small towns.
|
155886
|
Our painter man was killed by a bunch of snotty kids who were making fun of him. A gun went off. What is a noodle to do? He wasn't sitting alone in his world, anymore. Where was his famous straw hat? His trusty pipe? He desperately needed to smoke…
|
155853
|
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
|
155811
|
of Jim Beam when I was maybe fifteen. Or anyway old enough to admire the lesson.
|
155855
|
"I was born very far from where I'm supposed to be. And so I'm on my way home."--Bob Dylan I don't owe you anything. If I'm a recluse what does it have to do with you? I have the right to be poor. Some things cannot be explained away by letters that…
|
155896
|
|
155842
|
...it's about female needs, Rex.
|
1558198
|
...collapse of the human world. Go, cell phones!
|
155865
|
I left the train, still going nowhere, but in a hurry.
Still a boy, but trapped in a suit.
|
15582210
|
Something about her eyes...
|
155865
|
Mice dreams are a reality ...
|
155865
|
I'm fascinated by Don's evolution . . .
|
155898
|
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 A sad boy doesn't just die inside, slowly, he becomes withdrawn from certain types of lovely youthful reasoning out loud, accustomed to feeling what is expected, graded, just to be allowed to survive another…
|
155875
|
It is not unusual for farmers to see the future before it’s begun—but I am not speaking here only of the need to hope but more. . . .
|
155832
|
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…
|
155854
|
A poem not about fog written in fog with an erasable pen.
|
155733
|
And, you peasy-headed shrew, don’t you dare think I didn’t notice that it was you who stuck that fork into my neck in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot late Tuesday night . . .
|
155700
|
One cold winter's day she met what she thought was the love of her life. He had everything going for him but his age. You see the sweet young thing was a lot younger than her. One might say that she had lived many lives before he had been born.
|
155755
|
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
|
155733
|
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.
|
155755
|
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…
|
155742
|
Floating in liquor only to drown the next morning.
|
155700
|
Randy stood in the alley behind Krasnowski Construction with a loaded gun shoved down the front of his pants. His friend Todd was inside, unloading the safe. And when Todd walked out the door, Randy was going to shoot him in the face.
|
155774
|
She was dressed to seduce one man: Francesco Martinelli.
|
155761
|
Once was when we were in Vegas on layover from L.A., I told her I thought we should go to the Elvis Chapel and get remarried.
|
155755
|
The baby will not stop crying.
He’s been crying for three hours straight.
I’m the worst mother ever.
What kind of mother can’t soothe her own baby?
The bad kind.
|
155755
|
In an authentic Irish pub in Las Vegas where over much crowd noise the three of us are discussing Yeats, Joyce and Lady Gregory. We’re in an Irish pub after all, plus the fact we’re literature profs attending a Vegas academic conference.
|
155775
|
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
|
155755
|
When Carol complained about a pain in her back, Frank didn't think much about it. Her back—especially her shoulders—hurt most of the time he'd known her, almost fifteen years, from sitting in front of a computer all day. It was an old story. “But …
|
