1538 4 3
|
A tornado and peacock were bred in his paddock; the couple gave birth to a turquoise lasso.
|
153874
|
|
1538147
|
At some point, you care/
just enough to wake each morning,
|
153810
|
“I'll have the Ribeye cooked medium rare,” says Bill, who looks over at Julia, blonde hair and disarming smile, and he thinks that she's not bad for a blind date. He doesn't like the way she butters her roll, however, and it agitates him that she spreads…
|
153700
|
He woke up four hours later in his car in his garage with the worst headache of his life. He lurched out of the car and kicked over a basket of basil as he toddled towards the door to the house. He stopped and scooped the spilled basil back into the baske
|
153722
|
Suddenly I'm not feeling it anymore. /
Poetry has become insufficient. /
I can't do it like I used to.
|
153711
|
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!”
|
1537118
|
“Just how many different animals try to hide their nakedness?” “Only one. And that'd be us, idiot.”, Twinkle responded. “Then, why don't we mind sometimes showing our bodies?”, she then asked. Twinkle could see it was going to be another…
|
1537128
|
We suffer//
the one agony only- of having no longer/
any physical effect nor way to speak/
of what we watch to those we watch.
|
153764
|
In a field of barley, I see you, ...
|
15373118
|
... “All power is just behind your belly. Look. Knot of belt – just in front of navel – navel is eye of chi.” ...
|
153722
|
“I’m pregnant,” he says...
|
153764
|
... he could feel the pointed picket spears.
|
153753
|
He looked like a black paper doorway pasted onto a painting of summer.
|
153753
|
And your daughter, Mrs. P, and your daughter Mrs. Q, underwater, underwater in the old swimming hole, in the backyard swimming pool. “They’ve all got children there.” La la.
Yet when I’m naked, when I enter with my own body the mirror, the small sha
|
153700
|
My eyes don’t close but hers are shut tight, and something inside tells me that to this girl, I could be absolutely anyone.
|
153641
|
When I came back from California the second time, in the summer of 1965, I was the first around our town to wear my hair long, influenced by the Beatles. And I bought a bunch of blue caps that everyone in our gang wore, with the number “69” sown on
|
153622
|
Ellen and I stepped out into the hall to discuss the situation. Maybe we should make some sort of offer to purchase these paintings, because if it did turn out that they were for real, well, the value could be endless. Think of it. Vladimir Lenin, the pai
|
153601
|
She could see him doing these things but she could not hear him.
|
153600
|
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
|
153653
|
Into the bowl I put Tales from the Crypt, The Far Side and an episode of Numbers. Wisked for a moment, then let the dough rise.
|
153631
|
I will show you how, in the spring,
the sidewalks here
look like a crossword puzzle resting under
a glass of lemonade,
|
153610
|
What if
Everything
I have been doing
Hasn’t been heard
By anyone?
|
153654
|
|
153657
|
It is claimed we choose/
conditions of our servitude.
|
153611
|
The dance draws deeper
whirling witches weaving rhymes
The fire spits fierce in the falling rain
soon the spell will spill from secret times
|
153621
|
I want to own you, even if it is only for a few moments or a few hours, but it will not be worth it unless for that brief span of time I know that the only purpose of your existence is to be a woman whom I own.
|
153666
|
I feel his hand on my face, feel it brush past my lips, and I taste my sister's blood.
|
153662
|
And she was thinking of him, right now, at this very moment, scurrying like mad, desperate and frantic like in those dreams where you’re late and trying to get somewhere but can’t, not wanting to blow this opportunity...
|
153675
|
This late November day there are too many leaves filling the yard.
|
