1436 9 8
|
It's as if the house knew I was relinquishing my hold on it.
|
143673
|
I experience a presence when walking through the forest . . .
|
143633
|
The idea of an infinite textual universe occurs in many places in the works of Jorge Luis Borges. The contexts and permutations of language, which others had held to be perhaps infinite (allowing themselves to use such an imprecise term), that…
|
143610
|
"Maybe…" he began searching for some comforting wisdom. "Maybe it's like this. Husbands live for their wives. Mothers live for their children. And children...well...until they're husbands or wives, they live for themselves."
|
143699
|
It’s layer VII we adore/
and mourn
|
143632
|
The Italian was late. She was supposed to come into the store, meet him in the back, and arrange to take the last of his liquor.
|
143600
|
When his mother was all dressed up on New Year’s Eve, and his father, even thought they had tickets for the dance, announced to her he wasn’t going to go, Johnny had gone into his room, put on a white shirt, a dark suit, his dress shoes, and a clip-o
|
143643
|
In the end nothing could bring him back because I tried. All those weeks and months, yet all I have left are the tears and memories. He said when he asked the final questions to those in charge he was confused.
|
143574
|
these tender girls tears recent / with stained souls, brides of dead, / cadaverous Erebus; unguarded ladder / long the down going…came Anticlea then
|
143544
|
Robert Frost told me that life goes on, but that’s just not good enough for me and for God’s sake it shouldn’t be good enough for you either, should it?
|
1435118
|
We must sometimes see the world/
as the pale blue dot//
surrounded by brighter dots/
and that endless field of darkest dark.
|
143563
|
In that time when the trunk was getting cleared out and when it became only the empty shell of what had once been so important, many things hit the match. She burned an old black negligee, a picture competing with the likes of a Vargas girl and other thin
|
143595
|
He kept
saying how my old scars
excited him to new truths
|
1435179
|
let’s press our words into the clay/
in language so completely dead/
we have to re-imagine it.
|
143531
|
I just amuse myself by buying old guns and refurbishing them in my basement as I listen to old Bohemian polkas on cassettes.
|
143562
|
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.
|
143586
|
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…
|
143521
|
My third Rule of Success—and I may not have these in exactly the right order–is always get a pre-nup!
|
143500
|
To a tech-savvy millennial, the definition of progress is a hands-free blowjob, and the real number is not how many men you’ve been with but how many minutes you’ve made them wait.
|
143565
|
I can do the hot coals, no problem.
Or, your love, eyes closed.
Or your sneer, spank,
suffering, resentment, rejection.
|
143410
|
in her bedroom, opening night of his solo show she is snapping her nylons to center the seam stretching from her toes to where the line disappears into the hem of her dress.
|
143452
|
Not to...Witness such sufferingWatch as a life fades awayReceive the callAttend this funeralBe surrounded by well meaning family and friendsStand by helplessly as my father sobs in his brother's armsNotice the pain settle in my brother's eyesSee my grandparents' tortured,…
|
143411
|
*Must have excellent communication skills and be able to talk pretty good.
|
143433
|
Amanda Palmer's explaining the eyebrow thing. An altercation with someone at Roadrunner, or maybe old boyfriend shit to burn— She's animated but he's losing signal, filling in the blanks himself. Whatever, it won't light at first, and then WHUMP and she…
|
143421
|
...to know they are not alone
|
143487
|
|
143473
|
They called him “Albert, the Human Armadillo,” and he was. Rows of hard scales ran down the course of his chest, and he was studied and biopsied by doctor after doctor. “Psoriasis,” they said. “Or, eczema.” They prescribed ointments and oils that left him
|
143473
|
Shit, I guess I'm gonna hafta
|
143420
|
Look at this castle: fashioned from the sturdiest sand, pages of my name
|
1434107
|
The Tea Party member was married but cuter. He worked as a caulker, a tub and basin man.
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