1475 4 4
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The wooden man came to her in a cloud in a vision in a dream in a story. When he spoke, his tongue clacked against his teeth.——As soon as she woke up, she knew the wooden man was in her belly. She felt heavy with him, fatigued. All she wanted to eat was…
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147511
|
My grief is made up of
Demons fighting to
Claw their way first
Out of my eyes
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147511
|
Set your three-word story in prison.
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147521
|
This is how she does it:
Forward………… ...Reverse..........…….....Forward..........……...Reverse
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147400
|
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…
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147455
|
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147465
|
He stops smiling and only
says he loves me when prompted,
as if asking me to pass the salt
for his inner peace as it tastes too bland.
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147455
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"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…
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147474
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Not all ideas are bad, just mine.
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147454
|
I know this much: right now I’m over a thousand miles from my brother. I’ve been watching the odometers, adding it all up.
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147441
|
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…
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147476
|
the late snow, though not welcomed...
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147411
|
Winter in Phoenix Arizona happens in July. An overgrown lawn is working its way up onto The sidewalk. And then there's you with your mower, A hidden newspaper in the middle of everything. Snowflakes puff out from under Spinning blades. You hover above like…
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1474118
|
They could occupy the space//
left by creatures larger and more/
evolved.
|
147463
|
That is a pretty damning statement.
|
147432
|
The moment I was told of your passing...
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147482
|
Listen to chickadees. Join / LinkedIn.
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147434
|
But what “is” retirement? All of the previous sections in a life are full of detailed descriptions. But “retirement” is somehow left rather vague. One would think that retirement would be the long-awaited GOAL of life. But instead we are left with the
|
147401
|
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147483
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A Beatles haircut and loose Khaki painters overalls rendered the child sexless. He or she walked over to Hugh’s side and standing tiptoe peered into the casket. She, for Hugh had determined it was a girl, stroked the silk lining.
|
147499
|
No one has touched me for a long, long time and I believe that is why I am dying. This is a notion that is new to me but it has persisted over the last few weeks and I believe I finally have apprehended the truth. There was a time, I remember all too well,…
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1474135
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There were guitar players, and as happens with talent sometimes, the guitar players were too talented. There could not be places for all of them in a single rock band.
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147454
|
A poem not about fog written in fog with an erasable pen.
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147311
|
Summer bakes the metal playground slide to ripples. Still, kids line up. Sadists, all of them. Lucky enough to choose pain. Max feels it every breath, unwanted.
|
147343
|
It was a wake-up call. A sign that I needed to stop and ask if I was making wise and sensible life choices.
My iPod was full.
|
147354
|
He switches to quantum mechanics
and starts tinkering with his sleeve
memorizing a theorem
he'd figure out
if he had the time
for a deep breath,
he takes a deep breath.
|
147360
|
But now she was no longer the little girl.
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147364
|
You’ll say you should have known. You’ll blame my music.
|
147310
|
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…
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1473104
|
I don’t know how some can do it. Can they just walk off the animal in the yard or something, and forget about love altogether? Some have that built-in coldness of the soul, I guess. I don’t get it. The blood does not seem to shake their hearts. Are th
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