1485 10 7
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My blood has turned to flour I've been in Babylon too long My heart was singed by fire But it's drowning in my song We raised a prayer to Mary We had to take our share We took our places in the ferry But we didn't pay the fare And we don't know…
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148521
|
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…
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1485126
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Have you heard this yet? The daughter flew home to care for the mother, whose pump is still tick ticking—though now with aid—which means she leaves the kitchen when the microwave clicks on.
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148531
|
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.
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148552
|
We talk of his time in the jungle.
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1485103
|
Words are looking ever so strange today
like a hole in space
a wind in a cloud
a face superimposed over a mountain
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148521
|
Wesley did not rob banks in Banning County. Wesley Roberts was the sheriff of Banning County; robbing its banks would have created a conflict of interest.
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148553
|
He looked like a black paper doorway pasted onto a painting of summer.
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148511
|
It matters little who thought of it first, what mattered was the schism. Or, to be more accurate, those on the opposite sides of the schism. And, of course, you are a part of this, dear reader. You are of one side or the other.
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1485115
|
Blue skies greet us as we exit the forest . . .
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1485126
|
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148541
|
That is the question,
not to be or not to be
Life, death, whether to be,
all that is superfluous
in the face of laughter
and how to achieve it
under extraordinary circumstances
like not drinking anymore
I’m afraid not all the alcoh
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148497
|
Sex is a fetish war --
a battle of trinkets of desire
|
148401
|
She could see him doing these things but she could not hear him.
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148400
|
Rome and Carthage wage war as Hannibal crosses the Alps and invades Italy. With him, he brings an army of barbarian hordes hellbent on reducing Rome to ash. For one young Roman soldier, Gaius, he is trapped between his loyalties to the republic, and to hi
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1484179
|
A woman who is, say, a culinary arts champion or an heiress devoted to literature such as Bryher (Annie Winifred Ellerman) or Peggy Guggenheim might be able to turn me on, turn me out, turn me around.
|
148422
|
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…
|
148454
|
this is where we end --
the exorbitant eye of forgotten days.
|
148400
|
You shine brightest under a starlit skyThe moon reflects your beautyAs the wind sings your name sweetlyIt was under the heavens that we promised togetherThat I'll hold your hand and you'll be mine forever... You glow brightest when the sun is at its highestYour radiant…
|
1484128
|
the two become one where/
all things end,
|
1484108
|
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…
|
148451
|
There was no provision for keeping the post on the door, but I did not have the fingernails to pry it off.
|
148421
|
Vietnam, Tet, and beaucoup Charlie
|
148432
|
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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148443
|
Nights this husband returned home still hungry sometimes, even for her forearms against his own
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1484116
|
fanned lashes on rouged cheek
a glamorous sea creature
in violet perfume
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148495
|
We got a sandwich at Mr. Pickle's, but they cut the sandwich in the plastic. Plastic wrap.
|
148434
|
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
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148487
|
By the sixth - Dizz, Falstaff buzzed - Croons - The Wabash Cannonball
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148431
|
I want to read a story that ends unhappily ever after: one where the bad guy wins and no one gets the girl.
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