1486 10 8
|
I never took more than a few pills at a time, just enough for a treat on Friday night.
|
148683
|
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.
|
148622
|
Remembering you is easy
We do it every day,
When little Mike and Joey
Ask when the hell is Daddy ever coming home to play?
|
148621
|
"That zit on your forehead just won't go away, will it, sweetie?" she adds as she brushes her daughter's bangs downward.
|
14861910
|
I can admire Falling Water
and find Mr. Wright a complete shit.
|
148553
|
Magdalena followed the receding tide, her tiny feet leaving no rumors in the hard sand. She gathered only the most beautiful shells and presented them to her waiting Abuela. Her grandmother told her that the only things that a woman truly owns are her dreams. She told her…
|
148500
|
Mother’s eyes stared outward in a trance, on her throne, visualizing the world Azure made. Though it was right before her, she could not reach it.
|
148533
|
The gate squeaked, the gravel shuffled and the letterbox clattered as February 14th's mail cascaded to the ground.
|
148500
|
The struggling creature opened its beak and let out a shrill cry before both parents moved in and, using their webbed feet, forced its head back under the surface.
|
148521
|
I wonder if regular nonfashion clothes are out forever, if these kids will ever dress normally like, you know, Phil Donahue, again.
|
148500
|
|
148511
|
When flash and bang merge you are, according to the manual, in deep do-do.
|
148561
|
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
|
148500
|
It turned out that my brother's newly acquired building in downtown Pasadena, was what developers called a "see-through" building. That meant you could look from one side of the building all the way through to the other side, without obstruction. In oth
|
148594
|
happily fling Molotov cocktails//
against ICE agents in armored vehicles/
and sing the pain of their burning deaths/
as triumph against asininity.
|
148566
|
He thought she should have come with an owner’s manual
So he would know how to operate the equipment
It was definitely more than he bargained for
Or knew how to handle
She was too hot
|
148531
|
Though his heart aches
his melody seems to flow
It creeps into the dreams
of all in slumber in the valley below
|
148598
|
Regret takes the shape of little clouds ...
|
1485105
|
“Now,” my friend said. “Tell us about earthquakes. Can we expect one anytime soon?”
|
148532
|
Boil (n.)––1. Pus-filled pustule inflammation of the skin, usually painful. 2. Slang boiled pus, bucket of (n. phrase)“Your asshole brain is a bucket of boiled pus.” (see also pus, SCOTTISH derogatory term for face.
|
148477
|
It's become sort of a habit now when Elsie's husband is away on business two or three times a month that we take the afternoon off and drive nine miles across the river to Marginalia, Arkansas and the Moonglow Motel with its red, neon vacancy sign and although to some, two…
|
148433
|
The shit just doesn't want to come off.
|
148465
|
|
1484107
|
Nik Wallenda was going to walk a wire stretched from Sarasota Bay across US 41 to a condo on Gulf Stream Drive.
|
148442
|
who can quite say/when careless talk & confidence/slips into that other charged thing/so minimal at first
|
148462
|
She is trying to quit—nasty habit this smoking. Still, this is the only time she lets herself smoke these days: Laundry day.
|
148400
|
The rocking chair will bite your toes.
|
148432
|
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
|
148400
|
Won't speak a word against 'em. Car trunk stunk like bad chicken long after, but I won't speak a word against 'em.
|
148464
|
Poetry is conceit; emotional, intellectual or technical.
|
