1417 6 3
|
I looked down at Earth and imagined this porn star who’d asked for my help.
|
141600
|
Online dating. Russian women. Beware.
|
1416146
|
So many dreams I need to visit, though
|
141630
|
Connor didn't bother to wait in the line of busy professionals, opting to cut in front of the sign that announced "Line Forms At Other End."
|
141631
|
Sweaty feet, drool from the weighty sleep of mid-afternoon naps, the inescapable perspiration of the South: all combine to create the entwined scent of socks and stale toothbrushes...
|
141695
|
Then I found myself in the water.
|
141641
|
|
141621
|
But behind the shops (and the many pubs), at the back of the narrow cottage fronts which line the wynds are secret courtyards, surprising gardens and more light than ever imagined.
|
141611
|
He roared back at her, shaking his empty gun in his right hand, waving his left hand in the air. “I am George Burnett, esquire, late of Balliol College, Oxford! I am a hunter, a killer of pigs! I do not fear you, bear; take the pig and be content!”
|
141653
|
Any form of exertion would defile what we are trying to do
|
141654
|
this is where we end --
the exorbitant eye of forgotten days.
|
141662
|
Speaking of stiff nipples, I heard you once wanted to become a painter, because of your fondness for nipples. Feeling like Gauguin and his little Polynesian women/girls, are we? So, you're going to try to out-paint God, are you, Mr. Sistine Chapel of the
|
141621
|
Soon the world is on film that is burning.
|
141620
|
I can’t deny you’re beautiful, though it’s unsure how many of your defects are fudged by my myopia.
|
141600
|
I was watching the bustling crowd below, sipping on a teacup full of Victory Gin when the scream, no a howl, cut through the murmuring of footsteps and telescreens.
|
141694
|
happily fling Molotov cocktails//
against ICE agents in armored vehicles/
and sing the pain of their burning deaths/
as triumph against asininity.
|
1416189
|
I want to tell you how the odor of the flowers/felt her funeral day
|
141674
|
the stars might be the audience or they might not be
if the beat sits right next to me and hugs me nasty
|
141631
|
'Every raindrop sounds different.' says Barney. He's bouncing along beside his mother, twisting in her hand like warm milk. She looks down at his Big Bear hat and tugs. They wait together at the edge of the busy road. 'How do they sound?' 'Zzzing.…
|
141620
|
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.
|
141600
|
Even the old medicine woman seemed to grin with a perverted sort of understanding when she opened the door to find Lys waiting outside. She was comfortable nowhere and ready to flee at any moment.
|
141621
|
She continued to cooperate with a city council agenda dominated by globalized privatization
|
141690
|
Of flowers there Are none In June No sun Upon my cheek The gentle breeze Stirs me not The smiles They cloud my vision Birds they Sing their songs But I hear Them not When tears Rain down My heaven.
|
1416126
|
|
141530
|
Every town has one. Or one at the very least...
|
141522
|
Someone shoved over a table. A little girl started crying.
|
141554
|
After President Trump was elected, my first impulse was to spend the next four years cowering under the bed, whimpering.While I knew that I needed to keep track of what our new commander in chief was up to, watching the news made me too angry and too sad and just too…
|
141532
|
We were talking in the dark in my room. He lay on a mattress on the floor. He came for a sleepover.
|
141540
|
Dear Patricia, You look marvelous. You seem marvelous. You've added wonder to Oprah's life and that's no small feat. But, here's the thing. I was working on this short story about a relative trying to get in touch with O, one of thousands, except, this one, well this one…
|
141543
|
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…
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