1484 15 7
|
Got something inside me
hard as nails
keeps me walking upright
ain't never failed
|
148422
|
Or, do my own red flags counter balance his. My back and forth, my restlessness, my one foot out the door, my ‘once a leaver… always a leaver’, my pitter patter for a former flame... peppered with my transgressions, my mistakes. Or, worse, the way I have
|
1484910
|
So where does that leave me, Roscoe Loomis wondered, dismounting his silver, aluminum steed in his sweat-soaked, spandex outfit, and, clearing the saliva from his beard he walked over, checked and smiled, learning that the bike track's timing unit showed it was Roscoe's…
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148422
|
If she was still breathing, Tom promised himself he would let her live, but right then his shoulder ached and his right hand was throbbing.
|
148473
|
Ginny, the mother, was a lark in every respect of the word. Born and raised in central California farm country, to a family of lower middle class means, educated in public schools in whose bathroom stalls she was deflowered as unceremoniously as a pig ta
|
148433
|
I reach out and grab a can of soup with each hand and spin them around to dive into this much-heralded sodium situation. It's a landslide. I almost smile as I put low sodium back and continue to hold tightly onto regular.
|
148422
|
Ok American dogs. Here my first story I wrote when I only two days old! Then evil moderator delete me and story go away. Now I three days old. I try to remember.
|
148431
|
The trouble with alarm clocks is naturally that they are miserable. And their curse is that their misery is useful: we employ them because we want to get away from them. But we would never have one as a friend.
|
148473
|
At last, we learn if Blow has the cojones to fight.
|
148321
|
‘what’s the hassle kiddo, chopping meat is fun, come here and listen to the music of the chop, the sound of steel ripping through air, slicing through flesh and hitting wood, poetry I say’.
|
148373
|
I experience a presence when walking through the forest . . .
|
148399
|
It’s layer VII we adore/
and mourn
|
148362
|
We’re going to talk about our future like the Rick Dees Weekly Top 40. Like there are 40 great songs this week about our future.
|
148365
|
To listen is to feel embodied reason//
sing and dance with consummate grace
|
148311
|
- Never in pain and distance -
Frown on these moments,
With bitterness and vain
|
148381
|
Sorry, I think I was jotting and not writing. I see a dropped article that would clarify my interest. I purposely didn't describe my alcohol use. There, I just did.
|
148344
|
Sometimes my poems escape. They crawl out through my Wi-Fi connection, I suspect.
|
148343
|
—Strip down to your shorts. Put on this gown, open to the rear.
|
148241
|
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.
|
1482105
|
Cultivate your vaginal tears
at the gates of Thigh and Holy.
|
148287
|
|
148202
|
We’d told her that Kasey waitressed. We talked about it a lot, trying to figure something out. I wanted to be honest with her. Kasey said she was too young to understand. I said that was why honesty wouldn’t hurt anything. Kasey said what about later.
|
148241
|
I'm in the boardroom, downtown in San Francisco. I don't even remember showing up for work today. I hope they fire me, just like they fired Bill. Well not exactly like that, that was awful. He was caught downloading a phenomenal amount of…
|
148200
|
Mayumi noticed everything moving in real time. Everyone just stared and a woman approached her to see if she was okay. Once Mayumi felt the woman’s hand touch her shoulder, her skin crawled and she ran.
|
148276
|
For decades the land the village sat on had switched its allegiance between two countries.
|
148242
|
In the mode of Swinburne's ‘Dolores':For the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster- A study of the notion of “Intelligent Design” Since the universe came into dawning, If e'er this bright universe did, Men ought to know better in…
|
148276
|
in a willow garden lush shade/drapes dark the young woman's small house/with the lone window, the white door . . .
|
148286
|
Removing the deeply embedded jack-blade frommy naked side, like any slicked-upsplinter, was just a bit jarring on the first bite, on first try, I must admit. I freelydo so now to your frozen-over faces. You made your…
|
1482116
|
Everything is bound to change like / a damsel to the tracks.
|
148200
|
If Don’s story was one of faith carrying someone through his trials, the story of Randy Slafter is another. It was faith that brought him and his family to Johnstown 15 years ago. The wings of faith protected him from the dark angels of grief and tragedy
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