1248 7 6
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When the teacher was out of the room Myron pretended to play with himself, saying, “down boy” and smiling to the nervous gasping and fake coughs from the other classmates and, since he's my close friend, I think he does silly stuff like this to contend with…
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124800
|
Normally, after her shift, Linda would make herself a latte, untie her apron, and study at one of the tables. That evening, however, KEXP kept playing songs with grating guitar riffs, and loud laughers were everywhere. She chugged her coffee, burning her tongue. Then, she…
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124811
|
I went back to the Charles Bridge over the Vltava River and felt the plaque of the Wall of Gropers, and that was where we hatched our plan, in front of my ancestors. I could just feel their presence there. They would be with me, the Gropers of Prague.
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124810
|
Freedom brings its own fears.
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124800
|
Writing books is like raising children. You do your best, nurture them, discipline them, coddle them, feed them, patch up their injuries, sing to them, try to sell them, but no matter what you do, they are what they are.
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1248106
|
Millennium jumped strumming lithium gum cumulative outnumber humiliated résumé jumpy instruments
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1247139
|
Every year I have a birthday, and every year
another of my friends succumbs to cancer or suicide.
That's
a shitty gift. That is devoutly not to be wished.
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124744
|
the view is
breathtaking here.
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1247117
|
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124777
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Spring Squirrel Spring is here now A dead squirrel in the road Regrettably not Seasonal Surprise Inside warm spring rain Coiled up like Jack in the Box Resides a snow storm Bad Vibrations telephone shouting an…
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124744
|
The man next door came over with a pitchfork.
|
1247108
|
If you stop, you starve//
and they just offer what you do/
to others, starved already,/
and schooled, as you, in servitude.
|
124711
|
1
Al Capone was ruling the backstreets and alleyways of Chicago during Prohibition, and we lived in a little house right next door to a speak-easy. I could peak through our curtains and see right into the bar next door when cops came in to get pai
|
124700
|
It’s the Tea, stupid. Drink up.
|
12471511
|
My father taught me how to solder and that's when I first started to write. Now, when you hold the soldering iron in your hand and depress the trigger, the tip of the gun heats up. Novices uncoil the solder and place it on the hot tip, but that just results in it…
|
124700
|
We transplant helix° splices and
shoot back to meet our former selves, zip the
scrolls, and save the world. Then you said spin
so I twisted my jumper over and
over in
endless folds like lips, like vaginas, like
seacreatures
|
124753
|
while the fat stars stand out in the cobalt night.
|
124601
|
The Devil’s laugh was the screech of wind. Ignacio Carillo heard Him as he dug the grave that would hold the body of his beloved wife.
|
124631
|
Most people come to dislike me because of the things I say.
|
124600
|
He started to concentrate on the music again. It was the album with the crazy picture of Monk on the cover, with a machine gun over his shoulder, a tied-up Gestapo officer and a female resistance fighter standing next to—a cow.
|
124630
|
Frank cut the tip of his finger off and it sort of shot over to the lettuce bin. The blood pumped out in tiny jets as he covered it with the palm of his other hand and ran to the sink. He pointed it in the sink and turned the water on, he could see…
|
124621
|
—Can you handle a threesome? said Isabella.
|
124600
|
The moon bulges with meticulous sick amber fire while first night’s chest heaves and sputters free infantine monstrosity from plague-wormed hovels, din mold choked grottos, and stale metal-cast labyrinth catacombs.
|
124631
|
I’ve seen your tired souls
riding under the city
lost in the drowsiness
of morning calm commutes.
|
124633
|
had I gotten home without knowing it? well . . .
|
124622
|
...she did wish she lived somewhere in Ancient Rome, and from one of those seven hills, perhaps during sunset, she would resolve to roll down and meet the flaming orb just as it descended so she would dissolve into embers and ash...
|
124622
|
the injured color wheel of the world
|
124611
|
#ShortStory #writers
are failed #poets...
|
124692
|
i think god composed afternoons with crayons
|
124553
|
It was on the Fake News today, Oh boy
They built a bridge from Alaska to Siberia
Called the Bridge Over Troubled Waters
Instead of a wall
And Putin came riding bareback on a pink unicorn
Into the White House and renamed it
The White Horse,
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