1537 8 6
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At some point we all reach the end point/
of something. Something important/
if only to our fragile self esteem.
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153798
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It's as if the house knew I was relinquishing my hold on it.
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153730
|
Maybe it might be best to, you know, have less frequent meetings.
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1537165
|
As the music concludes, I'm finally in control of my emotions . . .
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153740
|
There are songs I know to not listen to when I am alone.
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153763
|
My father seems anxious about my gender orientation. I grew up looking like a boy, acting like a boy. He bought dresses and girly stuff for me but he avoided making an issue of it until recently.
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153700
|
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
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153751
|
Darkness was fast approaching. I stuck out my tongue at Naya, and she reached out as if to grab…
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153720
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Now it's late. I am hanging upside down from a rope coiled around my crushed left ankle, the pain too sharp to be really felt, as the excess blood to my head makes my thoughts fuzzy. I am almost two meters from the rock face, thirty-five hundred meters above sea-level, the…
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153787
|
Downtown Milwaukee My feet are exposed, never been out in public even out here— …
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153742
|
He brought me flowers once, three wilted carnations I put in water, though the sight of them made me uneasy. He brought me pictures once, too, of three sisters—ten, twelve, fourteen—straddling dirt bikes. He touched my shoulder once, as I edited pictures …
|
153753
|
I'm gonna write about this after...It'll either be a tale of pain or pleasure hopefully the latterI don't understand how this workswhy sometimes I want to hide from myself other times I can just give in, fully,and everything isohsoheightenedI want it to be beautifuland…
|
153687
|
Reading at Menlo Park Senior Center,
old people falling asleep leaning to the left in their chairs,
all in the same direction.
|
153600
|
Martin met Siena in the elevator, carrying two brown bags of groceries. She asked him to press the button for floor eight. As they rose, Martin fixed his eyes on the display as it changed numbers: G, 2, 3… and so on.
|
153621
|
|
153644
|
|
153611
|
1. On the morning of her eighteenth birthday, Eve woke to find herself transformed into a gigantic chess piece made of zeros and ones.2. Eve gazed so long at her smartphone that she found herself falling into it.3. She fell for a time that may have been short or long or…
|
153686
|
It was your present world that seemed more than mad to me. Your polished stiff brown shoes that always squeaked like mice, while the latest rude Bombers bubbled up in their comfortable Dart-board garages like apple pies…
|
153600
|
When we saw the window, we were impressed. It was so clean and transparent that it reminded us of a new pair of glasses, everything so crisp and clear through it. It looked on to nothing. Actually it looked on to the refridgerators and a few stoves, though most of the…
|
153621
|
...to know they are not alone
|
1536910
|
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…
|
1536179
|
let’s press our words into the clay/
in language so completely dead/
we have to re-imagine it.
|
1536128
|
Compartments trickle together/
in light diffuse and unreliable./
Fortify yourself against the day.
|
153600
|
About three dozen people, the doctor told him, dwelt in the small village until there had been a dry spell—a drought the likes of which no one in the region had ever seen before. Theories abounded as to the cause of the drought as theories do: a curse by
|
153631
|
We all know that sometimes miracles happen and sometimes they don't. Some days are good and some days go by slowly as the fatigue sets in and he realizes that he is fighting cancer.
|
153676
|
in a willow garden lush shade/drapes dark the young woman's small house/with the lone window, the white door . . .
|
153688
|
I attended the burial of our affair when I found the notebook-maybe it should be called her diary-she had foolishly forgotten, leaving it on the deck of my beach house where she stayed while I was on that short trip to Chicago and I was numbed at first, unsure how to…
|
153655
|
where will we be/ when it happens?
|
153698
|
War Stories #1The Germans didn't like that theJews had such beautiful women.War Stories#2There must have been a war between the good witches and the bad witches. It's the only thing that would account for such troubling times.Woman With Yellow HatWhy did…
|
153664
|
Frank kept looking over at Michiko’s loft.
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