2611 33 17
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Fabio has a soul of passion. A beautiful soul of passion. His passionate soul was so beautiful the ancient stars shone upon him and made him look like ghosts at night.
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2611263
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Usually the predawn light means bedtime for wicked guitar players, but not that bloody Sunday.
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26092623
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I counted telephone poles and the seconds between them. The old highway cut straight through the sand and it seemed the road would never end. No curves. No hills. Just poles.
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26092521
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I found the knife in a fishing box in the closet. The box was made out of varnished wood. My father’s father had made it.
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26082219
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You’re broken. Your eyes don’t see quite right, and your hands don’t feel quick enough. I love you anyway.
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2608147
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I am seven years old today and I want the dog by the river, the one with the great mane of hair like my father's who is a singer at night, and with big ears, too, that grow from the top of its head so that I can tug on them if it's being bad or stroke them…
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26073019
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That spring the war still moved north but we did not go to it any longer.
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26073619
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"She gnawed her arm off in the morning, before he woke...."
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26064817
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Every one of them will tell you I drank so much malt liquor I could barf up a distillery and that wouldn’t be a lie.
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260331
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Lying there, with the terrible screech emanating from his chest, blaring from his open mouth, he thinks about jet planes and jack hammers and nuclear explosions. He doesn't have quiet thoughts.
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260388
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Q: “How many husbands have you had, Mrs. Guggenheim?”
A: “D’you mean my own, or other people’s?”
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26022821
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The night she left she claimed she fucked Bukowski.
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26002514
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... tomatoes swelling and turning pink...
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25991312
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What's missing from their bodies is nothing compared to what's missing in their heads. One man in particular, now almost 80. Wakes to the smell of napalm, cigarette smoke, gasoline. Is he still feverish? Will the fungus rot his foot? But he remembers he
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25995421
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"You are not a vintage radio. Not even close."
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259866
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My grandfather rode with the Czar’s army. He was abducted from a village in Austria, trained to pillage and drink, plunder and rape, and ride the best horses that could be had. They were given the best vodka and the sharpest swords. They were all just boy
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25972317
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I watch my mother
No longer beautiful or charming
Her left arm shaking
Her mind a gone thing no longer doing her wrong
Wandering away from me in the mall
To kiss the hands of strangers...
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259741
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This is a story about Jim and Robin. They are strangers. Or at least they were. They are at the same party, but standing on opposite sides of the room. Robin is standing near the door thinking, “I wish there was someone here to talk to,” when she sees Jim. …
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25952829
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2595129
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We two have this entire lifetime left, so let's waste it . . . .
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25954013
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I should have created a first-date questionnaire heartaches ago.
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2594114
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A young woman in shorts removes her sunglasses, putting them on top of her head in order to study a little girl sitting on her father’s lap on the bus.
“I want to get me one of those,” she’s says, smiling. Dark eyes, her dark hair wet and hangin
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259321
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But not once did we mention heaven. The next day we bought another one.
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259110
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But she knew what she would find. She knew it all the moment she felt the sticky fingerprints behind the slat of her old oak slay bed. The fingerprints that would only be left from a person grabbing it from behind their head. The fingerprints that she
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25902121
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So there are these teenagers and they're all dying of cancer, or at least were dying of cancer, or might be dying of cancer, and then a couple of them fall in love and lose their virginity to each other, and these teens, they're all smart and charming and only a little…
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258943
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First you must accept /
the speed of light as constant. /
If you can’t do that, stop reading.
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2589138
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(one of my early works: an image-text collage, animated in flash.)
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258934
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Days went by as I stood in the woods waiting for a tree to fall, and when none did, I determined the universe is cold and indifferent and that man’s only hope is to buy wood chippers.
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2589138
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The clickity-click of poker chips spills out to the six of us waiting for a table. We're old college buddies, drunk since one this afternoon, sporting the ball caps our wives never let us wear. We brag. About our poker wins, how easy it is to read each other, how we can…
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25882716
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“White,” he says. -- “Black,” I answer.
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