1503 13 9
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There's a witch in Laurel Canyon.She made Wes a promise.Her bungalow smelled like Parliaments. Parliaments, garlic frying in olive oil. Parliaments, garlic frying in olive, and a freshly opened pack of Red Vines. Wes could have curled up into a ball and fallen asleep on her…
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150331
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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.
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150351
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It starts with a letter, down the back of the couch, ending, ‘love, always.' I read only the kisses aimed at me - a firing line running off the page. How long has that letter hidden there? It secreted itself in a corner of the house…
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150384
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When the poet loves,/ I said, quoting the poet,/ he loves himself.
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150310
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150372
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It waited and witnessed the seasons complete a grouping and form a year. Then it watched them do it again. Winter, spring, summer, fall. It watched from the inside of course. But it could see. Big sliding glass doors and long and wide windows stayed the course also, way…
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150221
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He keeps re-reading the menu but knows already how it ends..
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150245
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I had a terribly vivid dream
where a big leaf was talking to a baby,
and the Mouseketeers had grown fat,
and my lover was passing the healing comb
through the hair of my soul during the night
as she retouched my youth,
so I could rejoin
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150232
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Waiting for the light to turn, his mind wandered, wondering how it was that bridges of this sort collected stories. Old thru truss bridges with grated deckings, or any older bridge for that matter. The stories seemed to have died out since the concrete
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150251
|
a man sees salamander bands / a-cracklin on the scree
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150200
|
the warnings we fear are the selfsame ones of ourselves
of our vertical need to be first to the heights redoubling
its intractable charm of production— our inheritance.
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150295
|
He kept
saying how my old scars
excited him to new truths
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1502113
|
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150231
|
Anna's daily train commute from the outer suburban fringes to the city reveals a message that changes her life.
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150200
|
"Is all life suffering?" Miss Ang asked as she parked in front of the brothel. The concrete monstrosity stood humble and lost in appearance, but the locals knew what transpired there, as did the truckers and businessmen that frequented the Phetkasem Highw
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150221
|
Under a conspiratorial moon… the shovel my silent partner… organ-less torso to the worms.
|
15021612
|
you escape by finding the bubbles
|
150274
|
And I admire//
the orchestrations of ants and honeybees/
and the persistence and adaptations/
of the cockroach.
|
150222
|
a disease/ like junk-sickness/ like a jealous lover/ who discovers competition/ and meets it with a blade/ in your heart,/ not hers.
|
150200
|
lying back on inviolable sheets, your breasts spread apart like a child’s open hands
you’d look up at me and smile
|
1502115
|
I remember, when I was selling real estate, how you could always tell when there'd been a divorce. One room was conspicuously left emptied of its contents, and these rooms were never swept or tidied. Instead they were left just as they were when the par
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150231
|
She's an obese woman whose clothes don't fit: shirts that ride up too high her belly hanging out her pants suctioned to her strangely pegged legs. Her ballooned cheeks are always chapped pink her lips little slivers peeled back over small beige teeth like…
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150255
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Will he do it with a gun? If it’s a gun, will it be a short one, shaved so he can hold it against his head. Will it look like the photograph he showed me, black and brown. I told him he couldn’t possibly buy something like that from a Walmart.
|
150165
|
Everything was cool until she used the phrase, "five million dollar home."
|
150133
|
|
150173
|
|
150154
|
The cellar smelled like an aroused muskrat.
|
150130
|
he flies away
past the green explosion,
into the azure sky
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150132
|
"I’m wearing a white sundress with little strings tied at the shoulders, sheer white panties, and a lace push up bra." It sounded good, sexy, likable. The kind of outfit a girl he’d fall in love with would wear- if he was prone to love, that is. "That sou
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1501128
|
A friend's remark about androgyny, "it's overrated," she said.
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