1384 3 2
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His eyes were marbles floating over a void.
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13841811
|
|
138451
|
They come in my room without knocking and I'm nekkid.
|
138400
|
‘A whole damn plane is missing and the only damn clue we have is a 9mm bullet,’ Picasso said to Victor Bravo whom he calls Torv. He’s his partner at the Picasso Investigation Agency.
They questioned the guard assigned on the night of the plane
|
138400
|
Won't speak a word against 'em. Car trunk stunk like bad chicken long after, but I won't speak a word against 'em.
|
138410
|
Tiny was my daughter. Or what was left of her. A mucous-y chunk of what was once in my womb and then wasn’t.
|
138422
|
The young boy sat on the swing, hearing sirens in the distance. The tops of his shoes were dirty. His fingers as well, where he drew stick figures of people in the dirt. His…
|
138465
|
Shhh. I am here. Otillie Augustine, from Trieste, an Italian city to you, but when I lived it was part of Austria. Such things as who flies their flags over a city? Not so important after all, after all the losses and the victory speeches. These were not…
|
138486
|
I wrote her a poem.She said, “I hate poetry.” I said, “OK, just read the words then."
|
138444
|
My father died. I took his clothes.
|
138422
|
1The Bird King's eggs are subatomic particles created serendipitously by a sneeze in a quantum physicist's dream.Occupying a space between existence and nothingness, reason and madness, broccoli and…
|
138473
|
Look around you, see what you have built.
|
138364
|
As a boyfriend, he knows that such A.D.D. insensitivity could be considered a major liability in the eyes of most girlfriends, including his.
|
13831510
|
Translation’s not required—music/
sings itself complete and comprehensible
|
138365
|
Certain disorders lend themselves to poetics.
|
1383127
|
She has dwindled for the better part of a year, staved off her period, breasts and hips like a warrior. Chestnut strands that danced along candy apple cheeks now surrender to metal pins, her bun severe as an old maid's. Her prominent ears…
|
138364
|
They made posters and hung them everywhere. With the passing days she became the photograph at its center: hair always in the same ponytail; always with the same smile
|
138320
|
Each evening the man allowed himself an hour of fresh air. He and Prickles would situate themselves on the tiny balcony overlooking the same street, a blanket bundled around them both for warmth. These were the times he liked to talk to Prickles the most
|
138300
|
The summer was announcing itself in thick waves of heat that rolled like a slow motion hurricane inside Mark Keeler's 1971 Mercury Montego. The car baked in a…
|
138355
|
It wasn't pain
but half of it,
so half of it I mended
|
138361
|
Why do I love you? The monster that you are?
I love you for revealing to me my strength
My determination, my will
My need to survive
I love you for showing me the gift that is living
|
138321
|
if you don't quiver with anticipation you'll barely manage to explode
|
138362
|
I was, so I was told, the product of much hard work and a lot of invasive procedures. Initially, I'm sure my parents were making love, but then came the slog, the repeated failed attempts at getting one of mother's millions of eggs fertilized. Those tadpoles just couldn't…
|
1383189
|
The Street singer gathers up his coins
and counts to a hundred before
The last string stops vibrating
|
138321
|
Smiling at stones and chunks of earth pounding in...
|
138332
|
Lama’s mother is dead. She died when Lama was just outgrowing her ballet tutus. When Lama talks about it, it is with the air of one who picks honeysuckle over jasmine. It gives sunshine, she says, to graves. Our epitaphs are so mechanical otherwise.
Un
|
138386
|
Said do you feel it when you touch me?
|
138330
|
blackberry pie and huckleberry wine and litte Maria with her summerset bangs
|
138354
|
Swatches of Chinese silk in vivid red and lavender fly through the air. My granddaughter in her mid-thirties reaches for the cloth. I see in her mirror a shape forming; a slim, gray haired woman with a spring in her step. I pause to admire my reflection and pass over the…
|
138345
|
“Reminds me of my safari in Africa. Somebody forgot the corkscrew and for several days we had to live on nothing but food and water."- W.C. Fields Around the next corner is a dark green door a dark…
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