1486 9 7
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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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148632
|
Eighteen-year-old Svetlana Kabalevsky was now the widow of the poet Dmetri Kabalevsky, soon to be another widow-whore on the Moscow highway.
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148610
|
In the mechanics of the fantasy, it is essential that the wiring is maintained, all circuits working, every current flowing with the precise measurements, lest the system malfunction and the world completely lost. The engineers are constantly abuzz, constantly understaffed…
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148665
|
His shirts he hangs on the back of the chair, one on top the other so they won't wrinkle.
|
148685
|
Perhaps my grandparents, Fred and Lela, when they were growing up....
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148600
|
His mother hated blue jays, hated them with a passion she usually reserved for no-count trash who drank beer on their front steps and worked on their cars in the street.
|
148676
|
Take 1. The Love Letter to an Unspoken Name Well we're beyond our appointed Moment now. We must step On what's left, alone, but That begs some explanation to These days that pinball between Stars and to the sad dreamers…
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148611
|
When people talk about the end moments when one's life flashes before his or her eyes, they often refer to time as slowing down. I can attest to this phenomenon during my final moments, before the collision: the song playing on the radio, the squeal of tires and flash of…
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14861410
|
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.
|
148666
|
Not today. Even when the Isar rolls so cool and deep and I could wade and wade 'til sleep. Not today. When I have the tablets in a drawer in a box winking chalkily at me. Not today. When the church tower soars and it's bells toll out a seductive beat …
|
148623
|
say no / to me / and devastate me / and I will take it / as god's will / to drown me / in a vat / of my own / entrails
|
148600
|
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…
|
148621
|
My third Rule of Success—and I may not have these in exactly the right order–is always get a pre-nup!
|
148611
|
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…
|
1486126
|
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…
|
148643
|
In the end nothing could bring him back because I tried. All those weeks and months, yet all I have left are the tears and memories. He said when he asked the final questions to those in charge he was confused.
|
148521
|
Oh sweet, sweet morning light
|
148520
|
A rock group named Stuck Gas Pedal. Another named Tweezer. A group of young punk-rockers wearing neckerchiefs named Mein Kampfire. But wait, there’s more.
A song called “We Were Being Facetious,” co-written by them all.
Lost Flyswatter. That
|
148520
|
The next post card was of gondolas in Venice. “Have never not enjoyed ourselves less,” wrote Sylvia.
“Sylvia can be hard to please,” said Angelynn.
“Those boats could use a coat of paint,” I said.
|
148511
|
Like a distant memory of past expectations
I wander through past journeys, delineations
chew on the fresh air like a discontented Wordsworth
now free, free to roam where I will..
|
148595
|
I never meant to shipwreck you,
I didn't even know I was singing out loud.
I just stood on my rock a little too boldly,
and hummed a tune you wanted to hear.
|
1485188
|
he who laughs last is probably a dumbass fuck
|
148512
|
|
148532
|
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
|
1485159
|
They were discussing reincarnation,
what animals they would come back as.
"I'd be a vole," Cranshaw said. Is a vole
even an animal? Connie asked.
|
148511
|
an elongating boy with butter-yellow flecks in his eyes, and skin patched like a tabby.
|
148500
|
Should probably be faster at the cash register
|
148511
|
another lonely drone holding still
|
148521
|
She positioned the mouse cursor over the word Bikini and double clicked. The hard drive of the ageing work PC chugged into life as an Excel document dragged itself onto the screen.
|
148521
|
"You don't need the gun," Dean said. "Bring me a bottle of peroxide and some duct tape."
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