1503 2 2
|
At a candlelit table near the back of the restaurant, Jack and Lois greeted the waiter as he delivered their drinks, a diet coke for him, and for her, a vodka and cranberry. He apologized for the slow bar service and promised to return in a moment to take their…
|
150353
|
Any form of exertion would defile what we are trying to do
|
1503118
|
At the conference her boss showed off his knowledge of wines.
|
150311
|
She clutched her fat rolls and tugged on a pant leg. "I'm so embarrassed! You caught me on a bad day!"
|
150352
|
—Now that’s a hell-of-a-painting, Frank, he said. Those colors are engaged in warfare. How the hell did you do that?
|
150343
|
The shirts hanging by the back veranda serve as our memorial to them.
|
150334
|
But the restaurants put pig in every little dish. You couldn't eat there without encountering some portion of pig. It was in everything, including the cabbage. Who puts pig in the cabbage? I'm asking you. And in the dumplings too. For God's sake, give it
|
150367
|
The currents of events/
strip the molecules from cartilage,//
reverse polarity of ventricles—
|
150354
|
Last night as a duration spent hovering in electronic media-space.
|
150332
|
#2 The Typewriter Inside You by Harmon Gentle—I found this one at a garage sale when I was 15. Intended as a manual for sharpening one's typing skills, by the third chapter it became obvious that Mr. Gentle's sanity had slipped, and that rather than mastering the…
|
150200
|
Mezereon’s giant dragon heart marveled at the girl’s revelations. First, he was heartsick for her and the sad state of things back where she had come to him from. Secondly, he was aghast to learn she was a princess; for even dragons know and respect r
|
150297
|
Sex is a fetish war --
a battle of trinkets of desire
|
150243
|
Philosophy: a muscular exercise of throat, jaw, tongue, and brain.
|
1502103
|
I am going to quit clicking refresh, only because it is clear nothing is happening out there. After I click refresh just one more time, that is, and then I am closing the window. After clicking one more last time. …
|
150243
|
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…
|
150233
|
Welcome the one and the all of you, welcome all you scraggly long haired weeds, welcome the no longer rolling stones of the new you, welcome you most beautiful little wonderfully…
|
150200
|
a dozen girls with Encarnación's face flit past, whispering kisses along the part of my hair, tickling their hems along the cuticles of my nails.
|
150221
|
It was a strange mood, unfamiliar, not one of her usual “I'm busy wrestling with my personal demons” type of moods. She'd been steeped in it all day and I, like a shipwrecked victim reaching out for any piece of flotsam…
|
1502103
|
’m sure they have their/
cleverest working on it, though.
|
150263
|
It is midnight in Utah, but I can’t tell. It always looks like midnight in a cave.
|
150200
|
The eyelid of the sink blinks silence. The clocks choke on smoke.
|
1502108
|
The first night I met her we slow danced to George Strait songs for most of the evening and when we took a break, our talking went warm and well as we sat eating hot dogs and sipping beers until she dropped a couple of bombs, first, telling me she was married and then, that…
|
150243
|
I was walking my Belgian Waffle-Hound
Past the Belgian waffle shop
I found a penny on the ground
And did a tiny little hop
I spun around and went inside
The Belgian waffle shop
And bought a little waffle
For my Belgian Waffle-Hound
|
1502103
|
Words are looking ever so strange today
like a hole in space
a wind in a cloud
a face superimposed over a mountain
|
150295
|
We got a sandwich at Mr. Pickle's, but they cut the sandwich in the plastic. Plastic wrap.
|
150200
|
Won't speak a word against 'em. Car trunk stunk like bad chicken long after, but I won't speak a word against 'em.
|
1502189
|
I want to tell you how the odor of the flowers/felt her funeral day
|
150212
|
I was an alcoholic for ten years, starting in my early twenties and continuing into my thirties. Then finally, after many attempts, I got myself straightened out. My son's birth finally did it for me. It wasn't like a switch flipped in the delivery room…
|
1502104
|
Every day, a fresh new/
strain of Hell reveals itself
|
150110
|
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…
|
