1470 2 2
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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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146921
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Oh sweet, sweet morning light
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146921
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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…
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146977
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146942
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A walled city doesn’t let you out any more easily that it has let you in earlier.
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146922
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'Like poems,’ I said
she paused and nodded
her black mop.
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146932
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Natty looking
in his 2-tone shoes
and argyle socks
blue blazer
with 3 gold buttons
on each cuff
pale yellow
hemp or burlap
necktie, of course
with a blue shirt
(never white!!)
long mopish hair
hanging on his forehead
and a
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146942
|
Feeding you a taste of croissant
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146951
|
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…
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146941
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When I was young I bowed with such forgotten politeness, a young salesman, enchanting, in the silken trades. But I remembered the sun also when it was in Hades, which had forgotten to set, or to rise.
Peace, also, dangled there by the neck. Such a pre
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146964
|
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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14691410
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Sitting together at Starbucks, we composed a long love letter which we've been mailing back and forth to each other, signing our name upon each receipt and returning it for the last nine months and it has grown to eighty seven pages, barely fitting in a shoe box.
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146911
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an elongating boy with butter-yellow flecks in his eyes, and skin patched like a tabby.
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146900
|
I'm getting self-righteous here, Dear Reader . . . [hey! wait a second! this is my diary! what are you doing, looking at it, dude! Hit the road! Scram! Vamoose!]
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146954
|
The Bird King's advisors and ministers are a range of rusty kitchen utensils. They all observe a respectful silence in his presence.——Contrary to popular belief, the Bird King is not an atheist. His meathook priests do their rounds at twilight.——The…
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146864
|
The sad march goes ever on. It stretches endlessly over an eternity of painful hills, as unnatural as lumps under the skin, into the deserted broken down streets, the forgotten unprotected alleyways, always adding more and more lost children to…
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146810
|
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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146800
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"They don't know how this formed or how it got to where it is today. What we do know is that it's not going to last forever." Said Edward McCabe to his daughter who hadn't learned to talk but communicated with her father through her agreement or disagreem
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146866
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The world has long since been bootlegged by madmen. The new invisible con men are the same as the old visible con men, hiding and lying behind their walls of lingering death. There's a weapon wielding demon hell bent on an insane vengeance crawling around…
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146820
|
"We gotta find a way to get high!" "Shh! My parents will hear you Tommy! Their bed is right above us." …
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146865
|
Nothing good ever waits at the end of a long corridor.
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146853
|
In Aisle 3 would you brighthearted find Count the Chocula.
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146800
|
Holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped in a tissue in one hand, a round shape that balances the round yellow burst of light that is her dress. While the flesh of her chest bulges forward and she balances as though in a holding pattern in flight.
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146853
|
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1468169
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Our disappearance would register/
as the movement of a sand grain/
on a windy beach full of sand.
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146800
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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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146866
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Then I did the same to you, inhaling your scent which was one thing at your hairline and another at your collarbone.
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146776
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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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146701
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[This story definitely WON'T be appearing in this month's "Alfred Hitchock's Mystery Magazine"!]
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146721
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One can’t predict the final cadence of one’s life.
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