1296 3 2
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Hi de ho, and hey, hey, hey; The farmer's daughter is made of hay. I went to touch her but she blew away, And noo ma hert is nae langer gay. Hi de hoo, and how do you do? The farmer's wife has a cold up her flue, And takes me away…
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129610
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If Mad Dog were interrogated by female U.S. forces in a combat-riven no-woman’s-land to see if he was really an American, he couldn’t name the most recent WNBA champion.
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1296105
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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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129640
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But that last night in Europe, getting ready to fly out of Amsterdam back to the States, I heard this Phil Collins song, “In the Air Tonight,” which expressed some of the turmoil and confusion and whole-life hysteria I was feeling inside. Waves of fru
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129621
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You sleep. The time is soft and slow.
Your dreams are covered with the snow.
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129584
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An infested, indifferent universe . . .
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1295135
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each act of creation is a jolt of expectation
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1295116
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Unless they leave you comatose,/
it’s the disasters you remember.
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129501
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Ben followed Jean-Claude’s white Fiat. Every time Ben shifted gears, he was reminded of Arris’s punch.
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129555
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Her name was Carrie. And yes, it was love at first sight. Yes, she was a client, and you were supposed to keep your hands off the clients. Everyone in real estate knew that. She came into my office and took a seat in the reception area. I had a listing on Cedar…
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129598
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This is what happens when a writer falls in love...
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129500
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"That it was my stepdad's fault."
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129521
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Here and there a few bits of beauty, with the highest respect, reverence, erect with pride. Almost twice a thousand dawns, ten thousand in intimacy, the breasts, the nipples, means of the world to nourish itself, by the intimate bay.
It's almost pun
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129552
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Can we ever truly know reality? I don’t think so. But fly in comfort my friend. Lean back and enjoy the thrust of those engines.
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129576
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The outside world will intrude . . .
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129533
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Once in a while I have the time of my life /
in this god-forsaken Earth:
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129510
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The morning news.
The birthday present you bought me.
This poem.
My hair when I wake up in the morning, at any given point in the day.
Pigeon pose.
My singing voice.
How much I love myself.
Coffee.
Sex.
Not having sex.
Having movie star sex.
Ha
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129521
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No one knows where the wind comes from, but sure as hell it comes.
The executioner glances round the reception area. Nods to himself. Function versus form. Anodyne, instantly forgettable, like hotel rooms. Perfect.
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1295104
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Contest rules are simple. Two teams of five hunters each are established by drawing from pools of interested volunteers and selected prison inmates confined for capital crimes and illegal immigration.
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1295159
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Squeeze the Word into Flesh
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129587
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On high a centaur is pulling a yellow chicken on a sled.
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129585
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Mari thinks that's all fine and fucking dandy.
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129511
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“I love women. They’re like goddesses.”
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129573
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Not the torn magazine page, not the smell of ink, not the sweat of palm nor the froth of irish spring
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129540
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She had endured three years of abuse for those hot, fleeting moments of tenderness—just enough warmth to keep her second-guessing the bitter frost. Now the ring promised a lifetime of biting back her pain.
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129511
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Lester walked back into the house. He was hungry but didn’t know what he wanted to eat. Really, he couldn’t remember how to fix anything he wanted. He walked over to turn on the television, but couldn’t find the on/off button. Surely the damn thing had an
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129521
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The woman leapt from the top of the burning building. The flames reddened the faces of the watching crowd. The heat pushed them back. The woman hit the ground. The crowd oooooed. If only I'd been a firewoman, I thought, with a ladder as tall as a building and a…
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129595
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I want to write a story about a woman who lies to men about her height.
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129522
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the small break of consciousness that is my dreamswaterso much wateri can never forgive the watertoo many tears
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129500
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Picnicking In Mt. Misery Cemetery We breathe the damp shade, plum trees shining in a woodland where there are few wrong things I want to remember-- the steel fence of the power company blazing under an arc light is one. On this day of ripening fruit …
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