1501 6 5
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His shirts he hangs on the back of the chair, one on top the other so they won't wrinkle.
|
150132
|
The Intrepid Explorer recounts his travels for the benefit of subscribers to the Magazine of the Museum of Everything
|
150122
|
As I fall to the ground I realize that in a few moments I will be experiencing a new kind of pain. The last pain. The last pain I will ever feel.
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150100
|
I
A sparklerman zig-zagged across the skies, re-arranging stars in its path. How bright his stick-like and jaggy limbs twinkle, I noticed; even noticing my surprise. No longer 'simply sitting', I was.
'It is time' I mumbled. The room was melting, si
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150164
|
I'm an older guy. She is still quite young. I tell her I may be too old but she giggles and tells me that she did the research and it said because there is snow on the roof doesn't mean no fire's in the stove. She proved it. Things like this. We excite ourselves,…
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150100
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He rolls in unbidden across the stubble fields /
Old acquaintance astride a newly booming cloud/
Under sky an alien shade of strawberries whipped/
Her watch stops ticking out the rest of her/
scheduled breathing poses
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150165
|
Maybe they considered themselves beyond redemption, or maybe they couldn't sit for that long.
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150177
|
I remember the first & only time I parachuted it was 1964 my 16th birthday a rite of passage if you will from the old man an aerospace engineer & former WWII B24 bomber pilot I practice-jumped from oil barrels taught how to fall back then when the time came…
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150142
|
In the mode of Swinburne's ‘Dolores':For the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster- A study of the notion of “Intelligent Design” Since the universe came into dawning, If e'er this bright universe did, Men ought to know better in…
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150197
|
If they are all speaking medicine & I / start speaking French - how / rude am I? Would they understand then / what it is to be entirely left out / of the conversation, unseen?
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150122
|
Happy Birthday to me.
It takes just a second on waking to remember,
It's June but it feels like December.
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150155
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Eat blueberries every day and you'll live to be a 92 year old mogul. Really.
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150110
|
There was an implicit understanding, made clear by Athena's gentle stroking of Freddy's silky blond hair, that he would share her canopy bed with its frilly fuchsia pillows. He didn't mind this, despite despising the color of the pillows.
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150053
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Seeking your will, instead we found, somehow, a clutch of our own documents;
folded under a rubber band gone to rot,
muddy strands nestled in the creases.
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150076
|
Ross, I've been a ghost hunter for almost 10 years now and this is a place I said I WOULD NEVER NEVER EVER go to!
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150077
|
|
1500199
|
One moustache hair at moustache level on a filmy bathroom mirror. A red velvet spread on a big round bed. Dear Ma: We saw a bearded lady.
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150078
|
|
150022
|
It's one of the most difficult problems of aesthetic philosophy: What do we mean when we say that a song is sad? None of the big names--Aristotle, Kant, Croce–Benedetto, not Jim–come close to answering it.
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1500910
|
Fine gradations of the fractional/
fissure the eggshell whole we crave
|
150089
|
They can’t exterminate the poor just yet
|
150042
|
Years ago, I was involved in a freakish tragedy so startling and heartbreaking that it made the front page of not only my local newspaper, but “People” and “The National Enquirer.” I'm not going to tell you anything about it. This means that…
|
150021
|
Their tongues were dry, her milk was gone, and the last bit of water in the plastic jug had evaporated.
|
150041
|
Miracles don’t happen to the poor.
|
150094
|
I’m not / going to change you I /promise
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150053
|
|
150011
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Suddenly the producer, Irving, tosses a new idea into the discussion, an idea for a possible film. Then the writer, Herbert, does the talking. He performs, in fact, puts on a one-man show. The idea! The idea! It's…
|
150087
|
The rat had been informed, assured, cajoled in order to gain his assent—duly lied to, in other words, by the researchers with not one tear of remorse, with no smudge or smear of conscience . . .
|
149921
|
Oh sweet, sweet morning light
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149942
|
I left Iowa in august when the air was thick and sticky. I had been there three years minus a few days when the boy I'd been sleeping with packed almost everything I owned into my car and waved goodbye. In Baltimore I had few friends and a job teaching English at a…
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