1381 3 3
|
Play somethin’ solemn, they told me, or somethin’ that sounds like home or the mountains in summer.
|
138100
|
The mother continued to stand, marooned in her isolation and Isis' hostility in between table and bed and under the overhead which cast a blue tinge, she held the newspaper- The Daily Mail- which embarrassed Isis- aloft and at an angle, one leg position
|
138121
|
Things that happened, were said, acted upon at twilight or later.
|
138176
|
You look at me with that contemptuous smirk while I'm here in Walmart dressed in sweats and house slippers, sloppy, a bit fat, trying to figure out which electric toothbrush to buy.
|
138153
|
Could even drift off to
New Orleans for a slow sip
of a hurricane
|
1380135
|
each act of creation is a jolt of expectation
|
1380208
|
I'm trying to make love to her but she wants to talk.
|
138033
|
Why, these were the young hands
that I kissed only last night.
|
138011
|
A Halloween drabble. Happy Halloween to all!
|
138011
|
And why rabbits? Rabbits never went to a slaughter house. Rabbits died in the road, run over by cars, shot by prepubescent boys or eaten by dogs but never slaughtered in mass. It didn’t make any sense, thought Art and he wanted to ask the small man i
|
138011
|
Leaning toward Joshua, Stuart says softly, “Take it easy, okay? We’ll bury him. He shouldn’t be left here, in your kitchen.”
Joshua glares. “Don’t you fucking move him.”
|
138012
|
Before he became famous Faulkner was postmaster at the University of Mississippi Substation Post Office, a fact that endears him to mailmen around the world.
|
138096
|
Wind was a sorry excuse for force
|
138011
|
She never leaves her desk, but food appears like magic.
|
138055
|
The world is a mighty funny place. It spins wildly and we are held down by its strong ghostly gravity. We're still able to communicate with one another over morning coffee and delicious cake donuts dipped in chocolate. Some of us used to keep…
|
138010
|
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
|
138000
|
This time he was dressed in a snap-brimmed hat, zoot suit with a gold chain and two-toned shoes; something out of a sad, lost Los Angeles past. I had no choice but to follow him as he walked down stairs that led to the Metro. We stood near one another,…
|
138010
|
4. If you wear size 13, you'll trip a lot.
|
138000
|
|
138022
|
He sees the dogs through the window, his babies, sleeping on opposite ends of the couch. His girl, lying supine, hind legs spread, grotesquely, almost comically, as far as they can without being flush with the cushion. His boy, Cosmo, face down, the power…
|
137941
|
You're riding on the edge The edge of life and death Popping pills Shooting thrills Snorting coke and meth Running fast from it all Heading for a fall Needle in your arm What do you care Who does it harm Looks change at will With each and every pill …
|
137911
|
Joanne Simpson sat in her pew of the church that dominated her tiny town, listening to the buzzing of disturbed voices like a hive of bees trapped in a wall. She knew exactly what was wrong. Some parishioners sat on the edge of the pews, while some whispe
|
137941
|
He gave her everything she hoped for, with the exception of two things.
|
137900
|
It’s that time of year. The combustible mixture of booze, poinsettia corsages and the soulful sounds of Eddie Venturi and the Fastidians will cause people to get up and dance at holiday office parties who have no business doing so.
|
137920
|
It's advertised as a romance. The poster shows a Sudanese woman with a child at her side collecting gum from Acacia trees.
|
137920
|
Liking up with the Joneses...
|
137911
|
The priest went into the place in those parts, the priest an old pear or grape gotten ripe and then moreso, but never actually expiring . He was hunched and it looked like he was broken at some integral part, but nobody could tell for sure where. One time, a bat…
|
137933
|
I nearly burst out laughing when I heard myself telling him in my accented English that she’d confided in me that she was preparing to sacrifice herself as part of an elaborate snuff film produced by a band of psychotic artists hell-bent on making up for
|
137955
|
Some nights I want to take my father’s glock / and build my skull a sunroof.
|
137922
|
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