1492 8 5
|
—Jesus, that bastard has everyone in his pocket.
|
149242
|
Dandelions wither as I approach and the grass dies under my feet.
|
1492129
|
Who owns the moon? What title search/
could ever make a claim?
|
149294
|
Take no form or face beautiful enough to cause warfare, or that which would provoke inanimate objects to song. If a tree wishes to flower in your presence, request that this happen very slowly.
|
149242
|
they tried to trick the sun
|
149293
|
|
149152
|
The cold and the ice’ve really stoked a fire in those old bones of his. He runs with the gait of a racer, front legs straight out—each extension producing a crack like Jack London spitting into the cold...
|
149110
|
Even before I tap on the door I know I am being watched with one eye. My footsteps have surely given me away. A swift tug on it reveals her to me—half of her, that is, and I slink past the threshold, to her. From her eyes I see that she has…
|
149100
|
Why did he seek punishment, if he felt no guilt? Why this empty conscious, though he had done such evil?
|
149166
|
The ability to "see the ball" is a gift.
|
149155
|
I have a ninety two percent rejection rate.
|
149101
|
After you started drinking your meals and hating politics I wanted to climb inside, live in your stomach and dissolve. I wanted to make you see, hold you captive with arms stretched, pinned. listen again, swallow…
|
149174
|
"I’ve always wanted to write a novel. Like Catch-22, something off-beat that would start by word-of-mouth, you know, and become an underground classic."
|
14911212
|
That afternoon she met me in the lobby of my hotel and we simply smiled at each other in the elevator going up to my room where we sat on the couch for about three hours and told of our lives, of being apart, for so many years, then sensing our time was nearly used up, I…
|
149111
|
Set your three-word story in prison.
|
149100
|
A tanka poem about Jolly Old Nick being black as hell.
|
149000
|
When she got back to Claire's, she was hammered and she had no idea what time it was, what day, or, frankly, what planet. It was the first time she'd been that drunk in years. The last time she could remember getting even close to that wasted was at a Christmas party right…
|
149022
|
Ellen and I stepped out into the hall to discuss the situation. Maybe we should make some sort of offer to purchase these paintings, because if it did turn out that they were for real, well, the value could be endless. Think of it. Vladimir Lenin, the pai
|
149021
|
Loaded on acid, Billy blatzed into a 7-11, holding his dick like he hoped the store guy would think the thing was an Uzi. The guy laughed and pulled out a .38 Special and the cops carted Billy to jail. …
|
149062
|
We cannot cross the river until it freezes. Bekker predicts January. For food we gather leaves, berries and roots from the thick forest behind the cabin. Suarez boils what we find into a revolting paste that we spoon into our mouths with dirty fingers.
|
149011
|
Wherever you decide to grow
Please remember to ask the dirt
‘Am I still dust’
|
149042
|
|
149055
|
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.
|
149000
|
Being the baby in a family forces a focused outlook on life. Not necessarily profound, not even wry, but a perspective that pushes for two things - recognition, and to be in on whatever is going on.
|
149054
|
|
149000
|
‘It's perfect,' said Maggie as she lay in the casket. Harold Barnes offered his hand. ‘It's a shame he never got to see it,' Maggie continued as she climbed free of the coffin.
|
149044
|
He'd sit or stand, as if this was common
to see: in the street walking by, such a man.
|
149011
|
My grief is made up of
Demons fighting to
Claw their way first
Out of my eyes
|
149054
|
If you are a family member or friend of a person incarcerated in a correctional facility...
|
149098
|
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…
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