1545 6 5
|
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.
|
15451814
|
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…
|
154521
|
Grady Quail wondered why God didn't just have another son
|
154442
|
There was this old guy named Ned. He swept floors. No one knew much about him. He'd been around for years sweeping the concrete floors of the hangar-sized buildings that housed the major mechanical service departments at an old amusement park.
|
154455
|
"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…
|
154442
|
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
|
15441311
|
Ah, how sweet is forbidden fruit, how delicious undiscovered sin!
|
154422
|
We do the work of fixing people like him?
|
154441
|
The capsules tumble around, one of them plinking against the crown in my upper-right jaw. I hate the crown… a mute reminder of the first time Brad hit me. Swallowing the capsules, my tongue probes the left side of my mouth, finding the other two crowns…
|
154465
|
I left the train, still going nowhere, but in a hurry.
Still a boy, but trapped in a suit.
|
154455
|
|
154464
|
“What took you so long?” she asks. She seldom asks me that when we’re done, but today I feel ready to protract the glory, to tease out its rise and fall like the lingering chords of a Debussy pastorale.
|
154441
|
You gather their faces in the palms of your hands and their purple eyes blink, blink, unseeing.
|
1544108
|
My first love was a woman of principle. Never deny your man was her motto.
|
154475
|
The nerves are birds that guide us to feeling the loop and lift of reverie.
|
154442
|
I am fair game that will be hunted and eaten, cutting its edge with Satan's tears from six eyes.
|
154353
|
It's 2am. The wind is moving at speed, whipping gently the tree branches, and their leaves rustle simultaneously to create a audible sound, like hands flipping through sheets of paper, or that feeling you get on your fingertips when going across a textured surface. I'm…
|
1543179
|
A young girl wavering between celibacy and punk mother-lust despair came to visit us each night
|
154331
|
|
154334
|
Wednesdays were humiliating. Third graders had to bring in twenty-five cents for class dues. If you forgot, the teacher would write your name on the board and it would stay there until you settled your debt. My family could afford the weekly quarter; the problem was…
|
154344
|
The woman lit a cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. She took a long drag, tilted her head back, paused. Her eyes flicked to the NO…
|
154311
|
our eyes misted white as goatskin
|
154354
|
He did not hear her enter the room...
|
154300
|
The day Eugene told me his secret he gave me a bouquet of lilies. Ice clung to the petals like fuzz. Sorry about the frost, he said. That was an accident.
|
154371
|
I have the right to remain silent. If I waive that right everything I say can and will be used against me like a razor dragged across my neck.
|
154320
|
There is just something about a thin, white cotton v-neck t-shirt, he thought, as he ran his hand over bleary eyes and dehydrated lips. He wanted her, as always. But he needed just a little more rest. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. It…
|
154342
|
He arrived at Bellevue hospital in a straight jacket bound to a gurney.
|
154397
|
Weight of faithlessness...
Mist
Of bodily
Existence
Grave expectations for the future
|
1543113
|
Ego bereft of consistency Betrays a heart hungering to toll. Unable to trust its will Or harbor imaginary gods, It gains a hold melding into a role whose proven viability Can give convincing cover To buy time to fabricate An identity that feels unique, Yet…
|
154396
|
And soon you'll be walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
|
