1446 7 4
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The marble, it's just there.
I can't explain
how it got there
(or when),
all I know
is that everything
is in that marble.
By "everything,"
I mean every
thing. Your breakfast?
It's there.
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1446107
|
“What do you want for Father's Day?” she asks. “Sex,” he says, his mouth curling at the corners, “and a bottle of Shiraz.” …
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144632
|
I don't mind being dead. It's ok. Really. I've discovered a whole new way of being based on non-being. What else can you do? I like being invisible. I like groaning and rattling chains. I used to be a writer. Still am. In fact, it might be more accurate to say that…
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144653
|
No girl hits hard enough.
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144621
|
I hope you enjoyed the celebration last night. Good things always come to you. I thought your family would never go home. I didn't get to sleep this morning until 2:59, although I had set my alarm to 6:10. I didn't want you to miss your plane. At daybreak,…
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144665
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Maybe they considered themselves beyond redemption, or maybe they couldn't sit for that long.
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1446107
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The Tea Party member was married but cuter. He worked as a caulker, a tub and basin man.
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1446126
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It comes to me at night, the monster. I don't even realize it's in the room until I hear it breathing behind me. It reaches out its hands and places them on my shoulders. Its fingers are furry and soft, but strong. They grasp the muscles on either side of my neck, and I…
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144622
|
There is a roofer straddling part of our house, pushing shingles off of our roof with the edge of a shovel. …. I've thought seriously, at times, about becoming a nurse. Seeing your mother in a hospital bed, hooked up to a tube, more than one, too…
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1446105
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If I could say only one thing more to Tony who died a month ago, there is one thing I could find to say
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144632
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Kerryn saved us from ourselves really. Would you be reading this had she eaten it?
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144554
|
The silver urn of ashes inscribed
with his unknown name.
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144532
|
I am not responsible for any nightmares this piece may cause for all you mice lovers!
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144576
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Up at the top, a quarter mile south, billows of black smoke crawled up the faint blue of the sky.
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1445114
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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…
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144521
|
...to know they are not alone
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144586
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There are stranded people just like us, that's Not necessarily what I'm looking for. Negativity won't pull us through the Barbed-wire halls of hate. And even if I Was the only one, I wouldn't want you To look any different in the mirror. I'm older …
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144595
|
He kept
saying how my old scars
excited him to new truths
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144543
|
" History ...is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake."
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144500
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It is easy to look out on the Bowery and say, "There are the bums." Encountering one, however, even one who asks to "bum a quarter" or tells you he's "on the bum" the word "bum" slips away in one's mind...
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144510
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Wile E. Coyote? A junkie strung out on bunk dope.
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144552
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The increasingly furrowed lines on his forehead made her stomach clench.
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144555
|
where will we be/ when it happens?
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144531
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She's an obese woman whose clothes don't fit: shirts that ride up too high her belly hanging out her pants suctioned to her strangely pegged legs. Her ballooned cheeks are always chapped pink her lips little slivers peeled back over small beige teeth like…
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144561
|
It was the dead of winter. I took my father's shotgun from his closet. He kept it wrapped up in one of those khaki-colored gun tote bags that had a zipper running the whole length of the gun. It was a 16-gauge, single action shotgun. Anyone could tell wha
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144410
|
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.
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144400
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Two women are escorted to the desert, where they are shackled to the ground. Who are they, what have the done, and will they survive?
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144497
|
This is the Minuteman tine/
of the three-tined fork//
we can stick into the modern world/
when it’s done-- a MAD triad.
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144400
|
He then spent his walk home to his single apartment spitting up various textures of red, combinations of cherry and blood mostly.
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144432
|
...he was suddenly and hazily relieved that he had something in Persepolis and blue agave plants to talk to her about.
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