1510 0 0
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Alysia’s eyes turned to Megumi where her sister nodded. Alysia took a deep breath and stepped back. There was a moment’s hesitation, but she felt Megumi’s hand gripping her wrist.
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15102110
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I approached him slowly. His voice was soft and raspy. He said, "Kneel down my son, I've been expecting you."
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151001
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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.
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151021
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I think we could be twins, our hands hitching us together like paper dolls, our parkas making blobby round balloon shapes as outlines for our bodies. I imagine each of us holding onto someone else, and the line continuing on from there until we have a cha
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151041
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Describe my origami, the shape of a gun or a limp dick, or maybe a flower.
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151011
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Set your three-word story in prison.
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1510105
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“Now,” my friend said. “Tell us about earthquakes. Can we expect one anytime soon?”
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151065
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It sits up tall on its hind legs to take in all of whatever this is, big and bluer than the sky, death's own taxicab parked on its doorstep.
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150900
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Long ago, this painter Brussegem had hung the dark mantle of Outcast Artist” over his shoulders—and over his life, he formed a strict philosophy—Art and Only Art—and protected his solitude and artistry with all his moody might,....
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150955
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and pressed an area
on my forehead
between my eyes
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150912
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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…
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150941
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"I am lying on my back and am confused."
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150900
|
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150976
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Maybe it was a trick of the gloom.
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150910
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["LIKE SAND THROUGH THE HOURGLASS ... SO ... ARE THE DAYS OF OUR LIVES!"]
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150976
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Here the three o'clock sun is an old patched up fellow, with a stained yellow beard, walking in a small crispy rain of brown leaves, looking at something that requires a bit of squinting no one else can see, on the far side of the softening…
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150964
|
Poetry is conceit; emotional, intellectual or technical.
|
150978
|
Reprisal The bomb blew away hubris, shocked the arrogant bastards into humiliated silence. None of them had experienced hunger and they'd misjudged its effect. In the lobby of the palace, dirt, plaster, glass shifted, rumbled,…
|
150987
|
He disrobes; shoes, socks,
shirt, belt, pants. He smells of hard work.
The nude whisper of everything else.
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150942
|
they tried to trick the sun
|
150812
|
Johnny Rocket is on the I-pad, sad, He says, “Game on, King me, the Queen” Always "it", he eats pork rinds like mad, “King him again” high on amphetamine.In his sleep, ants come up from the floor board to eat french fries, cola, their aorta…
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1508117
|
She had just done it in the backseat with the man she decided would be her father. Or maybe it was the cast of his eyes under the dim bar lights. Maybe she insisted that this had to be done, to relive the night under the stars, under a dented roof of a station…
|
150800
|
Why did he seek punishment, if he felt no guilt? Why this empty conscious, though he had done such evil?
|
150800
|
She wheeled more deeply into the office towards Mason’s desk. Keith hurried to the desk and pulled the chair out of the way for her and a sat down next to her. She was blue-eyed, pale and completely hairless, which made it difficult to guess her age.
|
150852
|
He spoke the "Why" and it stuck out its tail. He tripped and fell with his face wedged between the W. She kept the answer in her chest so the words wouldn't crowd him where he lay. The "Why" found its way back into his cheeks and puffed his face out like a disease. He…
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150822
|
The streets downtown belong to the people. The people wanted greater transparency. They wanted Mayor Abok to be straight and narrow with them. They wanted their streets to be level and safe to drive their vehicles on. They wanted their streets to be usefu
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150800
|
The rocking chair will bite your toes.
|
1508116
|
Five evangelists in bathing suits
baptize a man
while green chilies
roast on a Ferris wheel rotisserie
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150831
|
It was more than just taste/
more than a point of view/
and oil and pigment/
that painted a store front church/
a box with a cross in a vacant lot/
that welcomed desperation, faith/
and imagination.
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150810
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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.
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