2752 18 14
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27493015
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For twenty-eight years, Cochran Baines removed a tooth from the mouth of every dead child that spent time on his table.
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274934
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Days went by as I stood in the woods waiting for a tree to fall, and when none did, I determined the universe is cold and indifferent and that man’s only hope is to buy wood chippers.
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2749126
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Opposite the foothills, on the field's southern edge, was a stand of old eucalyptus trees, each one a gnarled sentry with bark like burnt skin peeling from its trunk.
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274863
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Glen always had to be the first to fuck his sister, especially before that big galoot from down the street, whom Cheryl really liked to fuck, otherwise Glen would get violent. She had just started having her periods then, I remember. We were all there one
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274843
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If I play my accordion too loudly while you're painting, you complain. You stamp about in your room under mine. You fetch the broom from the closet and use it to thump vehemently on the ceiling. I feel the vibrations through my feet.
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27482219
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You’re broken. Your eyes don’t see quite right, and your hands don’t feel quick enough. I love you anyway.
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27463116
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I don’t remember the name of the boy in high school
or if I cried at his funeral
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27461611
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Their breath stank inside my lungs and tamped down the very minute amount of remorse I had left. It was replaced with contempt. Their fear warmed my cold sensibility as I steeled myself.
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2745156
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Elvis at a Starbucks. Some graphic words.
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27442620
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There is a certain stage of sobriety among men who drink every night. In that stage, they are their best selves: they write novels, fix cars, care for their young. Then they change.
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274355
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I made this robot. Everyone was making them. Mine was a vacuum cleaner with a rubber jack-o-lantern mask taped to the handle. His name was Z-Bot2131F, but I just called him Brady, after my dead brother. Brady, my brother, had come out cold, and…
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27424817
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Every one of them will tell you I drank so much malt liquor I could barf up a distillery and that wouldn’t be a lie.
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27413423
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I wrote a fucking poem about you
And you’ll like it
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2741138
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The clickity-click of poker chips spills out to the six of us waiting for a table. We're old college buddies, drunk since one this afternoon, sporting the ball caps our wives never let us wear. We brag. About our poker wins, how easy it is to read each other, how we can…
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2738114
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A young woman in shorts removes her sunglasses, putting them on top of her head in order to study a little girl sitting on her father’s lap on the bus.
“I want to get me one of those,” she’s says, smiling. Dark eyes, her dark hair wet and hangin
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273633
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I would roll my eyes, give one word replies or a smiley face.
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27351312
|
The sign that informs tourists that there is
no access to the Hollywood Sign is the
most ignored sign in all of Los Angeles.
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273473
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Christmas is here and there's work to do.
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273366
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It drifted into the sea, I say, when you ask me about home. You’ve only known me for a few moments, so you’re not sure how to gauge me. You laugh, and make an Annabel Lee reference. The English teach in me wants to hug you. The New Jersey in me wants
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2731128
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Like a small meteorite, a white cloud falls. The journey seems to have been long since it cannot spring up again, its wings being exhausted. Like a scared and shivering bird, it curls into my hand. Its apparent fragility prevents me from tightening my grip. A unique…
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2731299
|
TRAVELING NORTH Though you are dead now. Though I walk covered in dust through this strip mall in Iowa. I remember the collection of tendencies that led me here. The flat landscape. The blazing heat of cornfields. The landscape and body are one…
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27304013
|
I should have created a first-date questionnaire heartaches ago.
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272844
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I hear all the static in her head, all the fuzzy threads from half a mile away. She hates dirt. She hates the couples who come in and talk stupid lies at each other. It's so simple with her. I ask what she likes. The feeling of soft wool on her bare nippl
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27282313
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We met an old friend and his old dog. We went off leash on the lush Buffalo grass. He and I—this old friend, I mean—talked mostly of divorce, something we shared between us.
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272621
|
Mr. Kerouac is the author of On the Road, Big Sur, and numerous other works that defined the Beat Generation, and he's the foremost drunken writer of his time to embrace conservatism.
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272496
|
This is a fairy tale. There is a princess who is not a princess but we will call her a princess because every fairy tale has a princess. Her name is Tanya. She's the daughter of a mechanic and a housewife. She has two brothers and two sisters. She is the middle…
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27232625
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There's no surcease from heat, no "cool of the evening," like the songs say about summer in the South. Those songwriters sat under fans in the Brill Building in downtown Manhattan.
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272221
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“Maybe she will like Boo-Ba-Loo, the large male from America,” they said. So they shipped in Boo-Ba-Loo and put him in the pen next to Ding-a-Ling.
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272011
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The lard-arsed ol’bastard struggling
soot-faced and yelling. . . .
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