1520 4 1
|
No matter how bad his hair turned out or how avocado shaped one of those miscreants could make his head look, he would remain silent.
|
152000
|
This was the anniversary of the chairs. He would celebrate tonight for the chairs, and the chairs would welcome him.
|
1520114
|
the mother tells her child the flashes at the horizonare fireworks, not bombs, so he will not be afraid.at night he curls by the door or else he follows her to a different place. he is quiet, then. as if he knows the secret challenge.better if he and all the others…
|
152062
|
your light is gonna
last me
through the week
|
152010
|
I’m not ready for football. I’m not ready for it, but I live in a southern town that worships at its altar more devoutly than those suicidal beauties in James Wright’s great poem.
|
152054
|
. . . how a body calls
in the dark. . .
|
152000
|
A life in NYC was one I always dreamed of but I found myself turning into a bitter, sarcastic person who was losing the ability to see the silver lining in just about anything.
|
15201817
|
The courts had scheduled the date long ago but the time, an hour always left to the warden, had yet to be decided.
|
1520179
|
let’s press our words into the clay/
in language so completely dead/
we have to re-imagine it.
|
152052
|
If there was another way to describe emptiness, I'd word the endlessness of the sky, of the ocean at low tide.
|
152052
|
The manicured lawn rolls down either side of the knoll, punctuated with flat granite plaques, the occasional bouquet of cut flowers, a smattering of faded eight-inch American flags.
|
152064
|
and coughed its grey net over the candle lit world outside. Birds of an arrow sprang into thin air and disappeared over the hills in a quick shortness of zoom-breath-- like a stiffened branch snapping . It's cold. There're …
|
152075
|
Cicadas shed their skin as they grow, leaving crisp hollowed out remains on tree trunks, fence posts, and the undersides of upturned leaves. Tommy and I would collect them in the early morning and stick them to our clothes like brooches. I used to like Tommy,…
|
152042
|
Blankets were always her undoing.
|
152030
|
blackberry pie and huckleberry wine and litte Maria with her summerset bangs
|
152032
|
Sebastian and Janice had been a natural match. They sought to deny this at first because a recovery assistance program was not a place to forge intimate relationships. It worked out wonderfully in Hollywood, but Hollywood, as everyone knew, was just a facade. So…
|
152032
|
...the relatives didn't seem nearly as fucked up as she thought they would be considering...
|
152087
|
|
152033
|
The leaves/
seek reunion with the ground//
and leave the oak tree naked/
in December’s cold.
|
152090
|
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.
|
151943
|
Her son was doubtless the biggest wanksta that ever went to Andrew Jackson in the whole crumby history of the school.
|
151954
|
“We could dooble date,” he said.
|
151944
|
|
151944
|
|
151942
|
The convalescent home's common areas are surprisingly well-appointed, given the neighborhood, which makes his actual living quarters that much more dismaying. Poorly lit, dusty, stifling, the room reeks of socks worn for weeks on end. My nostrils burn, and my eyes…
|
1519158
|
We are the same shits/
we were in the Bronze Age
|
15191711
|
Neither of us thought of real winning. We set about brilliant losing, dark angel forms of luck and greed, the desire, the craving, the need to lose so strenuous that one wins; we tied at thirteen.
|
151910
|
Marcy was not herself today, her mother said when the school called. She was under the weather and she could not play with the other children. Marcy's mother began to suspect that her daughter was not herself very early on that day. Walking up the stairs Dolores…
|
151900
|
He then spent his walk home to his single apartment spitting up various textures of red, combinations of cherry and blood mostly.
|
151942
|
If white t-shirts are only an SPF of 8, she couldn’t even imagine what a white nylon-mesh umbrella on this godforsaken beach might be in terms of protection.
|
