2677 26 23
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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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26773019
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That spring the war still moved north but we did not go to it any longer.
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26772521
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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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26755421
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"You are not a vintage radio. Not even close."
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26742716
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“White,” he says. -- “Black,” I answer.
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2674168
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The possibility for numerous outcomes – the possibility of anything, really – lives on the writer’s page.
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26734817
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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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267334
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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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266600
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She stood there with ladylike maturity; her eyes were frightening with an unforgiving look, visible in her tears that pierced the very core of Oryn’s heart.
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266521
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The crowd gathered around the dying man's bed, waiting for his last words.
He was a genius. The most prolific writer and philosopher to ever live. He wiped his ass with the words of Shakespeare. The thoughts of Plato, Socrates, Descartes, and Nietzsche w
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2665156
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Elvis at a Starbucks. Some graphic words.
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26631210
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honey/she said/with a wink/and a twinkle
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2663108
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Fritz Lang. Even before I ever met the miserable son of a bitch, with his monocle and superior airs, I hated him. In person, he was an insufferable asshole.
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26623116
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I don’t remember the name of the boy in high school
or if I cried at his funeral
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26622313
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We met an old friend and his old dog. We went off leash on the lush Buffalo grass. He and I—this old friend, I mean—talked mostly of divorce, something we shared between us.
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26623718
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On Saturday mornings, by noon, the delivery car comes from Boston and unloads fresh bread and sandwiches, pork ribs and ground pork stuffed inside of breads and buns and banana leaves, bean shakes, and sticky rice desserts.
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26611814
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266133
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I would roll my eyes, give one word replies or a smiley face.
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2661299
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TRAVELING NORTH Though you are dead now. Though I walk covered in dust through this strip mall in Iowa. I remember the collection of tendencies that led me here. The flat landscape. The blazing heat of cornfields. The landscape and body are one…
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266143
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If I play my accordion too loudly while you're painting, you complain. You stamp about in your room under mine. You fetch the broom from the closet and use it to thump vehemently on the ceiling. I feel the vibrations through my feet.
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26604013
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I should have created a first-date questionnaire heartaches ago.
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265921
|
Poem: Zohra El Fassia by Erez Bitton
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2659114
|
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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265973
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Conversation becomes Electra, as do her eyes. Electra’s head is grey, like the head of my Frau Freud, Martha. Her intelligent irises are darkly pigmented, and her sclerae are edged with a dramatic, black line of the sort that Cleopatra affected. In ou
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2658118
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The voice in the sand: "If it has soul you must funk it."
|
265673
|
Christmas is here and there's work to do.
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2656138
|
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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265512
|
I hope I don’t have aches and pains in heaven
Cause here on Earth I ache in all my parts
These old bones don’t have the spring they used to
I sure hope heaven has electric shopping carts
|
265496
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Frank says if I eat the whole bowl of live crickets he’ll give me five dollars and his grandfather’s silver bullet from the war.
|
265352
|
his wife had made love to another man,
out of spite or love or to wake him from
his conventional slumber, we never learned.
We were there as a foil,
a first step towards reconciliation,
unction.
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