1573 6 3
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I looked down at Earth and imagined this porn star who’d asked for my help.
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1573119
|
The Poisoning I used to call my dad Serpico. Thirty years on the police force, and though a respected officer, he never fit in. He never had beers with the guys at the end of a shift or engaged in the more lewd locker room talk. None of the other cops were privy to which…
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1572104
|
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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157262
|
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.
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157296
|
As I walked down to the Subway, I thought to myself that now, after the horror in Boston, everybody looks like a terrorist.
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157211
|
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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157200
|
The eyelid of the sink blinks silence. The clocks choke on smoke.
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1572105
|
She looks for the obit, can't find. Over and over, looks. Nothing. Nothing except something touching her shoulder. Follow me. Corridors, doors, along and along, no time to notice that this last is the stage door — she was so suddenly there in the blare and…
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157251
|
They come in my room without knocking and I'm nekkid.
|
157243
|
Breathe a stench of Eton musk...
|
157264
|
Poetry is conceit; emotional, intellectual or technical.
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1572119
|
When Chuck dies, I’ll throw/
a party and dance, a little drunk,/
across what I’ll pretend/
is the old shit’s grave.
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157211
|
Shirley stubbed her cigarillo out on a dead chunk of honeycomb.
|
157299
|
Its odors of quicklime/
and pyre-smoke will curl/
commingled in acrid air.
|
157256
|
Sometimes I think living in a house with so many rooms /
you can get lost just making your way to the fridge /
should be enough. I chastise myself for wanting more.
|
1571105
|
an engine stalls out
in the parking lot
the driver
tears her skirt
coming through the door
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1571112
|
The water lapped against the sides of the small boat, their rhythm all that I could think of. Sweltering rays beat down, frying my flesh, the insipid salty breeze that occasionally stirred my only relief from it. Gulls circled overhead, like white ravens,
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157112
|
You gave me everything, delivered with a hungry mouth. Tease.All taken away, erasedby a few words.Lips that poured forth and lips that took insharp, electric pleasures.Now withdrawn, thin, petulant.Not satisfied,you crushed my sanctuary.with so…
|
157110
|
On Friday evenings they play Scrabble, a whole crowd of them. They use books to keep score, page numbers, instead of a long column of pencil scratches. They organize themselves into teams; the English majors all together, versus biology, history and horn players. She and he…
|
157131
|
angels give them names of important people, people under the control of evil demons whose influence must be negated at all cost if humanity is to survive into the future and achieve its ultimate potential.
|
157121
|
|
157100
|
Oh, you aren't going to lecture us, for heaven's sake?
|
157121
|
She also castrated her cat. All by herself...with her Swiss Army Knife. And not with the blade either.
|
157101
|
I take her hand. More grey dust rolls off the arms, over the railing, into the wind. It’s embarrassing and I let go. I think she told me to throw them away months ago.
I rub her bare thigh. She laughs real soft like. The corner of her lip curls up.
|
157121
|
if you don't quiver with anticipation you'll barely manage to explode
|
157162
|
She is trying to quit—nasty habit this smoking. Still, this is the only time she lets herself smoke these days: Laundry day.
|
157133
|
Who hasn’t at some point of the day wanted to dredge up everything in your pocket just to see what it is.
|
157154
|
Mon wakes up surrounded by trees. The light is grey, the trunks black.How long have I slept? he wonders.He doesn't know which way to walk. In every direction, the same prospect of trees. He looks up at a blank sky. No sign even of the sun.***He starts walking. Slowly,…
|
157165
|
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…
|
157122
|
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