1445 3 2
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I didn't feel when you cut out my spine I'd been throwing up all night couldn't even smell the rust …
|
144520
|
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.
|
144511
|
There was no need to drive. She could travel ten miles in ten minutes. She merely had to be careful not to step on any cars or trucks.
|
144564
|
I woke up to the humming
of an empty space in the shape of a sweatshirt,
|
144598
|
I don't think you understand. A sad boy doesn't just die inside, slowly, he becomes withdrawn from certain types of lovely youthful reasoning out loud, accustomed to feeling what is expected, graded, just to be allowed to survive another…
|
1445117
|
You are a warm winter
Despite the presence of snow
|
144544
|
I slide my CD toward Eric Burdon who sits, smiling and gracious and fatigued from Seattle traffic, at the table at Silver Platters, where I have just purchased ‘Til Your River Runs Dry, and stood in a line of old gray heads to have him sign it. I remove my hat and…
|
144420
|
They think because you are a writer you are not much of a listener and so you begin to recognize all of the great opportunities to be much more of a listener and then you shut your trap and get sucked into the whorls of her big wet brown eyes with Italianate…
|
144401
|
Galloping people, tangled in ballets of hot love, weaving in and out, making a canvas of it.
|
144455
|
I opened the closet door and there stood Eugène Ionesco lost among our clothes.
|
144421
|
The blaring scream from my alarm clock suffices as my wake-up call. It disrupts me from my dream state that I so rarely get the privilege to experience any more. I've always loathed that alarm clock, so I turn it off in the most sensibly aggressive manner I know how: just…
|
144451
|
There was no provision for keeping the post on the door, but I did not have the fingernails to pry it off.
|
144432
|
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…
|
144421
|
Smiling at stones and chunks of earth pounding in...
|
144433
|
I reach out and grab a can of soup with each hand and spin them around to dive into this much-heralded sodium situation. It's a landslide. I almost smile as I put low sodium back and continue to hold tightly onto regular.
|
144487
|
The winter’s too warm for the bears to sleep,
and they get up in the middle of the night
with insomnia and wander about the streets
in their pajamas, knocking over garbage cans,
looking for a midnight snack of some kind.
They’re getting kind o
|
144487
|
By the sixth - Dizz, Falstaff buzzed - Croons - The Wabash Cannonball
|
144422
|
“The window is a much better place to read,” she said.I wasn't aware she was talking to me, at first. In my typical manner, I was thinking about far off possibilities and realities completely detached from my own. Yet, here she was, a far off…
|
144455
|
She thinks this is the place she dreamed
|
1444115
|
Blue skies greet us as we exit the forest . . .
|
144442
|
Better not hand me that iPhone. I'll look up every damned thing in it.
|
14431511
|
sentinels in a frost-blackened field
|
144386
|
It was your present world that seemed more than mad to me. Your polished stiff brown shoes that always squeaked like mice, while the latest rude Bombers bubbled up in their comfortable Dart-board garages like apple pies…
|
144343
|
When I met Gregor Samsa he was still a cockroach, erratic and skittish whenever the light came on. We often spoke in the dark. I empathized with the man. I mean bug. Ok. That isn't fair. You can't call a man a bug because he chirps and eats dried skin cells. A…
|
144340
|
Then it started extruding tendrils and tying them all into intricate knots.
|
144331
|
My beloved lets me crawl into bed
and put my feet on him
since his skin is
warm and hot like a fire roaring from within
his soft flesh.
|
144333
|
She calls me by my name. She says I am her daughter.
|
1443103
|
’m sure they have their/
cleverest working on it, though.
|
144364
|
In a field of barley, I see you, ...
|
144352
|
—Now that’s a hell-of-a-painting, Frank, he said. Those colors are engaged in warfare. How the hell did you do that?
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