1464 4 2
|
A walled city doesn’t let you out any more easily that it has let you in earlier.
|
146489
|
They can’t exterminate the poor just yet
|
146422
|
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…
|
146486
|
Before Genesis, digesting the primordial soup.
|
14641413
|
Frenchie hustled waffle irons.
|
146432
|
Artie Shaw gave Ava Gardner a reading list in preparation for their honeymoon that included The Brothers Karamazov, The Origin of the Species, Das Kapital and The Magic Mountain.
|
146400
|
Should probably be faster at the cash register
|
146454
|
Uzma dashes up the stairs ahead of me . . .
|
146400
|
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
|
146421
|
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…
|
146431
|
It was the first warm day of a late-arriving spring. Ben was sitting in his divorce lawyer’s office on Maiden Lane in lower Manhattan.
|
146444
|
"...,beautiful, yet neutral, an oversimplistic reading of the people we meet."
|
146487
|
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 . . .
|
146455
|
Eat blueberries every day and you'll live to be a 92 year old mogul. Really.
|
146384
|
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
|
146311
|
While Leif was still very young, his emotions were very easy to read, for they appeared on his parchment coloured skin, named in his mother's writing. When he was seventeen, Leif fell in love. She was a pretty maid, one of the college servants who kept his…
|
146322
|
'Like poems,’ I said
she paused and nodded
her black mop.
|
146321
|
Sometimes when I fall I see a ...
|
146332
|
My pain is a black pearl hidden in a clean shell.
|
146311
|
"Soviet Mandelstam rose like Christ from the Nightmare,
Rises from the gulag, sunrise on the page."
|
146351
|
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…
|
146300
|
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.
|
14631410
|
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.
|
146300
|
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…
|
146311
|
A hinge in my heart is broken.
|
146298
|
Over his usual ham sandwich and skim milk for lunch Uncle Waldo used to always say, “Going out in the dead of night without a flashlight is dangerous.” But I knew what I was doing. After dark, I'd slip out and sneaker on down the path to take a dip in a…
|
146241
|
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
|
146220
|
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.
|
146265
|
Nothing good ever waits at the end of a long corridor.
|
146222
|
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.
|
