2711 14 16
|
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…
|
2710 9 3
|
You’re often photographed at Martha’s Vineyard at sunrise, Key West on New Year’s Day, Coney Island on Christmas, and variously at dive bars in Montauk. You’re a woman of a certain age and you are also a woman of the world. You’re a 21st century
|
2708 5 4
|
The morning of her suicide, Nonny Rice received a letter.
|
2708 17 10
|
Trent’s had many phases: Madonna, Bette, leather, water sports, rollerblading, haiku, chicken queen, rice queen, muscle queen, daddy. But religion? This is new.
|
2706 1 1
|
So you want to know my earliest realization that I was just another boob consumer? Trace it back to my Star Wars Action figure days. Fish out the collapsible C3PO from a war-torn pile of crummy Jawas and Storm Troopers, no they're all out of Snaggletooth
|
2705 33 24
|
your mania for sentences / has dried up your heart
|
2704 10 9
|
The story goes that the night before I was born my dad had a terrible headache.
|
2703 33 17
|
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.
|
2703 13 7
|
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
|
2703 40 12
|
The memory of thinking
in some other language
|
2701 20 13
|
disorderly black squirrels / inhabit upper Michigan
|
2701 14 7
|
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…
|
2699 20 19
|
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.
|
2699 5 4
|
It rained on the morning of the party, and the weatherman promised it would continue throughout the day. But Marilyn didn't mind. She actually preferred entertaining in bad weather. Her rugs weren't valuable enough to worry about, and the gloomier the sky
|
2699 5 2
|
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
|
2696 16 9
|
******WARNING: Long-ass story****** Click at your own risk.
|
2695 24 16
|
7. Using Cohen's Method of Structure craft a piece of fiction featuring unexpected conflict. (12 points)
|
2692 9 3
|
A plain oval face, opaque except for a birthmark streaking the right cheek like chicken shit.
|
2691 21 20
|
She watched an inky cloud suck all the color / from the trees.
|
2691 2 2
|
They sway from his hips, the torn knapsack, and the corners of the pushcart
|
2690 2 1
|
[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
|
2689 42 26
|
She drove me to radiation, to acupuncture and support group. She brewed me concoctions that smelled of twigs and dirt...
|
2689 0 0
|
Oryn’s eyes opened wide as her smile removed the sadness. She stood in awe with what she saw, as the sound of footsteps drew closer to her.
|
2687 28 21
|
The night she left she claimed she fucked Bukowski.
|
2686 3 1
|
Lying there, with the terrible screech emanating from his chest, blaring from his open mouth, he thinks about jet planes and jack hammers and nuclear explosions. He doesn't have quiet thoughts.
|
2686 6 2
|
He told of the wilting heat, the fulgent landscape, the people....
|
2684 0 0
|
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.
|
2682 8 8
|
Q: “How many husbands have you had, Mrs. Guggenheim?”
A: “D’you mean my own, or other people’s?”
|
2682 36 19
|
"She gnawed her arm off in the morning, before he woke...."
|
2682 17 11
|
She is cutting his hair. The wind is in her curls. She rises and falls like a sleeping animal. He has removed his shirt. There is a towel around his neck, the smell of spice and banana, the scent of vacations. You are reminded of the time in the beach house in Florida…
|