1458 8 6
|
Before Genesis, digesting the primordial soup.
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14581410
|
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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145800
|
Should probably be faster at the cash register
|
145884
|
Is this sought sea dream of the Arctic fox? The green below the circles of the white, above her eyes? On Formica tables where the woman smocks beneath glass borders of their vacant smiles, they pass by windows formulating styles,…
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145764
|
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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145742
|
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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145721
|
One can’t predict the final cadence of one’s life.
|
145784
|
A man bows his head
and crosses his chest
before crossing the street
and the rain keeps falling
on his bare blue shirt
and on top of his head
The taxis will not stop
The light’s still red
as the man waits
for the sign of the hands
|
145763
|
—You're convinced I'm crazy. I'm convinced you're incompetent.
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145777
|
|
145722
|
'Like poems,’ I said
she paused and nodded
her black mop.
|
145732
|
My pain is a black pearl hidden in a clean shell.
|
145711
|
"Soviet Mandelstam rose like Christ from the Nightmare,
Rises from the gulag, sunrise on the page."
|
145710
|
It is your music that makes me want to crack open my ribcage and rip out my heart as it still beats, to cauterize my carotids, and shove the mechanical insides of a clock into my thoracic cavity.
|
145722
|
A single woman should regard every train ride as an opportunity, I once read in one of those “How to Find A Boyfriend” books. “When boarding the train, don't take the first available seat,“ the author advised. “Walk through all the cars…
|
145710
|
"If you don't like it then leave!" Sally screamed.
|
145721
|
Keisha selected a strawberry swirl cupcake from the waiter's tray, so pretty, from the hottest, coolest, newest patisserie. Moist strawberrylishious cake, swirly pink frosting, sprinkles. Keisha was one lucky lady, scoring a bizdev gig at recession-proof…
|
145744
|
"...,beautiful, yet neutral, an oversimplistic reading of the people we meet."
|
145722
|
Happy Birthday to me.
It takes just a second on waking to remember,
It's June but it feels like December.
|
145641
|
Dear Friend:
As a visitor to Wonderland in the past, you are truly among our most treasured friends. It is the enthusiasm for whimsy such as yours that spurs us to continue to provide perplexing chaos for which we are so widely esteemed, the better to
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145621
|
Sometimes when I fall I see a ...
|
145600
|
A dark and mysterious account of an ancient traveler seeking arcane literature, and the miserable results to him after he receives what he sought.
|
145644
|
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:
|
145651
|
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…
|
145688
|
My stories are ramshackle; they lurch along in old sweaters with holes and missing buttons, drinking from mismatched cups and saucers.
|
145600
|
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.
|
145664
|
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,…
|
145611
|
an elongating boy with butter-yellow flecks in his eyes, and skin patched like a tabby.
|
14561711
|
I couldn’t parse the grammar of her body
nor decode the secret softness of her neck.
|
145600
|
We're at the Park Diner. My dad Tommie is sitting across from me. He looks haggard, tired. His skin is pasty and washed-out. He's not talking, so I'm not talking either, but it doesn't matter because it's hanging there between us.Cancer.Motherfucker.“Don't look so…
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