1248 8 6
|
Removing the deeply embedded jack-blade frommy naked side, like any slicked-upsplinter, was just a bit jarring on the first bite, on first try, I must admit. I freelydo so now to your frozen-over faces. You made your…
|
124821
|
Grady Quail wondered why God didn't just have another son
|
12481711
|
maybe a day in deep winter
|
124863
|
I looked down at Earth and imagined this porn star who’d asked for my help.
|
124800
|
My gaze could have gutted any man. Any man, but John Marcy. History would write that John Marcy was a traitor to his country. Public enemy number one in the state of New York. When that probably couldn’t be farther from the truth.
|
1248126
|
|
1247119
|
All else is unmoved/
and relentless in its indifference.
|
124754
|
In the words of that great philosopher Hunter S. Thompson, "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."
|
1247105
|
Bottom's up, mon cherie. On land, I'll grab mine with two hands. But in water, boy, I'm weightless and turning, a regular fish -- afloat, flopping, deboned.
|
124782
|
The lawyer is having a party the next weekend.... He's celebrating because he won a court case to have his alimony reduced.
|
124740
|
Over the years, Morgana had grown. She was so much more than what Xavier remembered. So much different. She had an astute, almost shrewd air about her. She didn't seem nearly as fragile as he had left her. No, she had an eye out for herself now.…
|
124711
|
|
124788
|
the brain plays impish tricks/
and entertains itself with avant garde/
home movies
|
124700
|
When his mother was all dressed up on New Year’s Eve, and his father, even thought they had tickets for the dance, announced to her he wasn’t going to go, Johnny had gone into his room, put on a white shirt, a dark suit, his dress shoes, and a clip-o
|
12471210
|
I. Two cancer scares since June, one came up nothing the other nothing much. (My breasts are dense: I know all about moles— little bastards don't have to get sun to go nuts.) My manuscript travels ether to…
|
124792
|
i watch my mind not wanting to touch the vanished rusty notes remain objects of consciousness heaven and hell inside us each moment birds fly through mental speech dark garden rain olive green cool breath of betrayal siempre mixed with greed awakens…
|
124744
|
The wooden man came to her in a cloud in a vision in a dream in a story. When he spoke, his tongue clacked against his teeth.——As soon as she woke up, she knew the wooden man was in her belly. She felt heavy with him, fatigued. All she wanted to eat was…
|
124700
|
Mayumi ran. She ran fast as if her life depended on it. She never looked back. She did not care about her friends. Mayumi just wanted to escape that world more than ever, but she did not get far.
|
124784
|
Do you know this song, Julia? I happened upon it one evening and only just before meeting you, a month before meeting, a month before arriving?
|
124710
|
I leapt up to retaliate when the clang of a distant door quieted my retesance. Shit, why am I so popular? I guess it was my turn to be thrown around like the guy in the Hotdog suit on the corner... Don't shoot the "Hotdog" guy... Please, please don't
|
124764
|
from here with its brightly polished fingers spread easily amongst the cresting winds off the choppysky, circling the sun and sea splattered cliffs like a lone marble rolling down a smoothed out incline only to be turned invisibly over again as if…
|
124796
|
I saw Vincent one day, sitting at a café table that was situated right next to the quays of the Seine, with another artist by the name of Bernard. Vincent had his back to me, and he was leaning forward in his usual hyper-excitement, gesturing wildly
|
124765
|
The world is crazy that way— two people close to me gone around the same time and I'm supposed to go on and on like those dryers and smile still and do my schoolin' still ...
|
124664
|
I'd wear my pajamas too, fitting for the big sleep
|
124632
|
a dim wood-paneled stair leading to the ladies’ rooms, candle-lit.
|
124620
|
He had a lean build, except, remarkably, his midsection was perfectly barrel-like. As if he kept an alien lifeform in his belly, cultivated by years of Pabst and Yuengling transfusions.
|
124652
|
At 11 pm, it is 87 degrees and I sit in front of the air conditioner, eating oatmeal. The oats aren't soft enough, but it is sugary and fills me. Outside, the city hovers at the edge of a brown out, people sweating hopelessly inside small boxes. In Utah, it was cold…
|
124622
|
Past the pavilion, past the factory, past the underside of the bridge where the surfers jimmy their sloppy fingers over the oil barrels.
|
124620
|
Time stole you from underneath the goldendock. Writhing there, slick as a flapping tongue;lips gored, red, whose gaping could embolden weak hands behind the blazing buck blade, long ago pierced in your summer quietus, beneath the soft shade of a tackle box, as the…
|
124600
|
Read that bit in Alice about the mock turtle soup
|
