1463 3 2
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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.
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146262
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INSTRUCTIONS: To all students, please address your index card: "To the Finder of this Balloon." Beneath that, write something that will encourage the finder to email you back. Then tape the index card to your balloon's string.Happy Ballooning! To the Finder…
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146232
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Michiko stood in front of Steinway Hall on West 57th Street.
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146231
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I will show you how, in the spring,
the sidewalks here
look like a crossword puzzle resting under
a glass of lemonade,
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146276
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Get comfortable with criticism
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1462115
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As air warms and warm/
winds stir, green becomes the force/
that surges the plains.
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146231
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"Look Emily, I’m charging your solar powered calculator and helping you relieve your dependence on foreign oil."
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146264
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After the Tokyo experience, Frank and Michiko decided that when she went on extended tours, Frank would accompany her.
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146220
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I can't believe it's Frankie, but there he is at a table on the far side, just in front of the big picture window. I hold the menu close to my face and peek again over the top, watching as he reaches under the white linen tablecloth to plant…
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1462103
|
’m sure they have their/
cleverest working on it, though.
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146278
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In and out of morphine dreams, he flies through the unfinished roof of Illinois sky. Below, matchbox-sized farm machines. A silo becomes his father's thermos, the silver-capped tower from which he stole sips at ten, his first secret. Back …
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146232
|
I am useless. A freak. Different. They all hate me now. All except you, of course. You will never leave me. Never. I'd kill them all if I could. Every single one. But twenty-four, that's a lot even for me. I'm so sick of the cliques; the special groups and hastily strung…
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146272
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That streetcar named Desire, it don't hardly stop for me no more. Leastwise not while I'm awake, and I don't have to be telling no nosy aides why I make them noises in my sleep.
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146243
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No pain is private. How can it be?
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146200
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This had the unintentional effect of me picturing her in a tight white top and tiny orange shorts. From up close like this, I had clearly misjudged her earlier. She could definitely be more than the quirky best friend in my movie.
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146222
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My Thursday head belonged to a former Miss Brazil named Rita.
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146287
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By the sixth - Dizz, Falstaff buzzed - Croons - The Wabash Cannonball
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146153
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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…
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146195
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I recalled the one night stand I'd had with the girl one balmy summer night in Minneapolis. We lay on my bed in the moonlight, and I touched the nipples of her tiny breasts with the thumb and pinkie of one hand.
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146141
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This poem first appeared in “Walt’s Corner” of The Long Islander, founded by Walt Whitman in 1838.
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146157
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It is claimed we choose/
conditions of our servitude.
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146165
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I know someone in need of healing.
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146152
|
We talk of his time in the jungle.
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146155
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“If your work is good you will get published. Just keep at it."
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146161
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I would like to go back (with spade, pick, soft bristles), and sift through time and layers, brush away the intervening years, and find: the tooth, knocked out by my then best friend, when we were seven, careening downhill in my father's wheelbarrow on Boscobel…
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146121
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Vietnam, Tet, and beaucoup Charlie
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146111
|
Baby Teak can access Wikipedia by rubbing two xylophone mallets together.
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1461109
|
I offer you a peanut butter sandwich full of unconditional love
and you say I'm being controlling, so I let you eat cake, eat cake.
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146120
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Each had jostled and laboured for his or her place upon the blunt outcrop, in the cold persistent darkness, where the outcrop was merely something that had fallen and not quite been washed away.
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1461146
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