1474 4 4
|
"...,beautiful, yet neutral, an oversimplistic reading of the people we meet."
|
1474126
|
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…
|
147422
|
Happy Birthday to me.
It takes just a second on waking to remember,
It's June but it feels like December.
|
147332
|
I am not responsible for any nightmares this piece may cause for all you mice lovers!
|
147354
|
In the words of that great philosopher Hunter S. Thompson, "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."
|
147382
|
She wore no bra. As she jammed the truck into park and pushed against the heavy door, he saw the points of her nipples against her dress. Ice filled his belly, the most beautiful pink-colored ice.
|
1473138
|
inside i know my heart rattles
cause outside i'm only seeing
that the truth is in tatters
|
1473176
|
...Rabidosa rabida- no spinner/
of webs but a quick and cunning
solitary hunter. Anxiety overwhelmed
|
1473109
|
He looks outside, sees everything disappearing like crumbing cookies into what appears to be a giant mouth.
|
147351
|
A tissue, she was saying - hand me a tissue. Her seat belt was locked and she was rocking back and forth in it cinching wrinkles into her favorite blue silk blouse. I can't remember her wearing anything else. Her hands were gesturing - on and on- an endless loop…
|
1473113
|
|
147332
|
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…
|
1473139
|
Those who don’t die, desire, descend. No song aloft arises from my irk. The seeing chieftain, not of sea, nor sand, nor boat, I till nightfall stammer alive, dig boneless trenches against tiding dregs and lathe, hunt, wallow, plow the hours, call in awei
|
147351
|
It starts with a letter, down the back of the couch, ending, ‘love, always.' I read only the kisses aimed at me - a firing line running off the page. How long has that letter hidden there? It secreted itself in a corner of the house…
|
147342
|
Q:What made you want to be a person who rides a train?
A:As soon as I learned there was such a thing, I wanted to be one.
|
147300
|
Cooking dinner for one in a city that isn’t my home. A beautiful city that I’m slowly losing interest in, just as I become a local. In a tiny apartment set in the most realistic part of town, I’ve turned the music up loud to drown out my thoughts.
|
147355
|
Eat blueberries every day and you'll live to be a 92 year old mogul. Really.
|
147254
|
The silver urn of ashes inscribed
with his unknown name.
|
147221
|
Despite the newly bright bricks and the working clock, Cassie couldn't help but take a deep breath before entering King Street Station. She had always tried to hold her breath when her family cut through it on the way to Mariners games but had never succeeded, not…
|
147211
|
There's something about the way he touches me every time that makes my heart skip a beat and pushes the air from my throat. I shiver under his hot breath while he whispers softly and pulls himself closer, letting his fingers glide…
|
147297
|
This is the Minuteman tine/
of the three-tined fork//
we can stick into the modern world/
when it’s done-- a MAD triad.
|
147264
|
When I look at the picture on my refrigerator, I always think the same thing: "Hitler was a baby once too, look how well he turned out."
|
147263
|
Day by day people went missing. Reports of the ads being answered with a robocall solution to their problems were at first unconfirmed. Yesterday my best friend told me his emotional distress call was going to be channeled into a free trip to what he call
|
147232
|
My pain is a black pearl hidden in a clean shell.
|
1472105
|
and, under foot,//
dark caves waiting/
with their unseen pigments/
adorning forgotten walls.
|
147295
|
He kept
saying how my old scars
excited him to new truths
|
147285
|
Perhaps my grandparents, Fred and Lela, when they were growing up....
|
147244
|
From the rumple of pre-dawn Queens, sure South on 95, to almost Savannah by dark; still cold, but we’re full of what’s coming:
|
147211
|
I am only ever
What you seem to be
Without the leverage
Of sweet reality
|
147240
|
like old discarded snake skin,
dry and coarse after the bite...
immortally tortured by broken glass bottles.
|
