2788 20 18
|
The doctor told me:
"You have 24 hours
to live.
no more, no less."
|
27883019
|
I went for a walk to buy coffee, here's what I saw
|
278874
|
“In retrospect, perhaps I should ask my renter’s insurance to cover damage from lava lamp discharges. But I am not a person who enjoys a fracas.”
|
278721
|
[Her adviser] looked at her and tilted his head, smiling. Over his shoulder she saw the M104 bus cruising up Broadway, and considered diving under it. Instead she took off toward the corner, in shame, and he followed. When they parted ways, he took her ha
|
278500
|
As I fed Puff, I thought about the nightmare Lily shared with me that morning. She dreamed Puff had a hole in his throat and all his blood squirted out until he got as small and skinny as a deflated baloon.
|
2784147
|
I am seven years old today and I want the dog by the river, the one with the great mane of hair like my father's who is a singer at night, and with big ears, too, that grow from the top of its head so that I can tug on them if it's being bad or stroke them…
|
27832013
|
disorderly black squirrels / inhabit upper Michigan
|
27821416
|
I get it. Poetry is an effort. Language is an effort. Words are an effort. Reading words is an effort. A big effort. It takes energy. Attention. Focus. Who has that? Nobody. So truly. I mean it. You don't have to read this. If you're already reading this you can…
|
277631
|
In the night, a several-hundred-pound Black Bear scaled our neighbor’s back fence, bounded down the gravel footpath between our houses and, confused by the people and lights, followed his instincts up a large pine tree across the street...
|
277454
|
The morning of her suicide, Nonny Rice received a letter.
|
277472
|
It's been so long since I've been in touch with any of you—if I ever was in touch with you—because my family and I took up residence in the local Wal•Mart.
|
2773137
|
If I had a daughter, this it how it would be. It would be all, Stand up straight, missy, shoulders back, no slouching, and she'd be sulky, sullen, pouting, wilful, and I'd see in her eyes, which would be my eyes, that she was starting to hate me, and I'd
|
27711710
|
Trent’s had many phases: Madonna, Bette, leather, water sports, rollerblading, haiku, chicken queen, rice queen, muscle queen, daddy. But religion? This is new.
|
277052
|
Don Galt’s butterflies swallowed Peter Robinson’s holdings on a cool and cloudy December afternoon.
|
27693324
|
your mania for sentences / has dried up your heart
|
276888
|
Q: “How many husbands have you had, Mrs. Guggenheim?”
A: “D’you mean my own, or other people’s?”
|
276652
|
It couldn’t be a worse time for failed novelist Robert Grayson. He’s 40 and falling apart. He’s balding and accumulating a gut. His job writing technical manuals for software looks like it might get cut. Then his wife does the unthinkable and files
|
27642019
|
A portrait of my sweetheart drawn while she is asleep: a passed-out angel illuminated by the light of dawn coming in from the bathroom window, one of her shoes missing.
|
27634012
|
The memory of thinking
in some other language
|
27623317
|
Fabio has a soul of passion. A beautiful soul of passion. His passionate soul was so beautiful the ancient stars shone upon him and made him look like ghosts at night.
|
276293
|
A plain oval face, opaque except for a birthmark streaking the right cheek like chicken shit.
|
2760109
|
The story goes that the night before I was born my dad had a terrible headache.
|
2758138
|
(one of my early works: an image-text collage, animated in flash.)
|
27561211
|
"So, like the Goldilocks thing…"
|
275576
|
In a plush leather chair, / high up a shiny skyscraper,
|
27554226
|
She drove me to radiation, to acupuncture and support group. She brewed me concoctions that smelled of twigs and dirt...
|
27553619
|
"She gnawed her arm off in the morning, before he woke...."
|
27532317
|
I watch my mother
No longer beautiful or charming
Her left arm shaking
Her mind a gone thing no longer doing her wrong
Wandering away from me in the mall
To kiss the hands of strangers...
|
27532821
|
The night she left she claimed she fucked Bukowski.
|
275100
|
Gerald's law practice wasn't new. He'd worked on the law review and finished near the top of his class thirty years ago. After earning his J.D., he'd gotten a master of law in taxation. His favorite cases required researching legal precedents, and he…
|
