1431 3 0
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He's got a rager for Casablanca, the old Bogart and Bergman classic. I can't snap him out of it.
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143100
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Azure lowered her head, nearly burying it in the window, watching the helicopter land.
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143101
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I wrote a poem and asked a professor to read it. / He said: IMAGE IMAGE IMAGE IMAGE / like a mad man on meth, foam running down / his mouth crowded with sharp, shimmering teeth.
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143154
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Guttering semiotics, The jeremiads of delirium; Drinking lukewarm tea over a late candle Like Hamlet in a power-cut; Affecting his own audience of himself, Hastening soliloquies through gritted sophisms, Withered and spun to intentional…
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143122
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I am young. This is years before I start to hide my accent.
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143133
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how enthralled might you be, or how much appalled,/plucked from a fresh dream that had just grown serene?
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1431145
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I suggested when we passed the flesh shack that we turn around and that I go in and say to the sex workers that the Russians are fetching $3.5K per hour in Manhattan and it's private, unlike there at that road-side shack.
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143121
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Did I refer to Mark Twain’s typewriter as an animal? Did I call it a hyena? I would not say that about Mark Twain’s typewriter.
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143100
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We both looked toward the house. We could just make out a light that was barely visible coming from the side where their bedroom window was. Slowly an evil grin appeared on Darrell's face. He looked at the knife in his hand. "This will do it!" he sa
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143150
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You wouldn’t believe an organ the size of a heart could scream like a nine-year-old sissy girl but mine did.
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143133
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No preview available due to the brevity of the piece. In fact, this comment itself is longer than the piece.
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143132
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For the camera
she smiles
otherwise not
and
only when she is
standing beside him
But for the camera?
for the crowd
for posterity
yes
For their children
for the future?
yes, again yes
a thousand times
until her face
be
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143120
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Charley calls to say he hasn't heard from me. The blinds are gone, so I take a lipstick off the living room table and draw a circle around his head. I make a half-circle for his gut, a squiggle for the telephone cord. He can come over, he says, just to …
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143153
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I don't look like other poets. /
People hardly believe it when I say /
"I write poetry, sometimes. /
During lonely evenings."
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143100
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“You sure?” He nods. “Maybe it was pneuomonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.” Flash of a smile, sobbing laughter, like an abandoned seal.
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143100
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One said 'Yes, I remember.' He was dark and tall and slender
A masterful pretender who laid roses on the floor
Appearing on the eve of morrow, so slow and full of sorrow
With a costume he did borrow, borrowed from the poet's lore
From the rare and rad
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143111
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Carla woke up from her hospital bed screaming.
"Somebody please help me. Please save me. I am begging you."
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143086
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That is a six-word story. Notice that the meaning does not change with the word count. Syllabic count: pentameter (ten). Keep these commas.
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143000
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There were six people on the bridge, myself included, and we were making our way across when something exploded—it was more a rifle shot than explosion, actually—and it cut like a razor through the delicate fabric of the moment.
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143032
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Falling asleep remembering lies that had been built around lies
Lies to impress people
Lies to make life more convenient
Lies, I didn’t even know why I told them.
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143020
|
I’m starting to feel more interested in my savings account.
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143021
|
I go with the wind, like the smoke of this Marlboro red as it dances among the palm trees.
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143072
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and the President didn't call.
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143043
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Whatever it is, the night vibe feeds off that disadvantage, nibbles at the desperation of those who come here.
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143022
|
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143043
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Daylight and cold sensed as an abstract, a number in my mind. Air thin, polluted, lacking oxygen. But the Recyclers are at it again.
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143042
|
It's always dark when Cal and I arrive. We park under the bright sodium lamps, closest to the doors. The lights will probably be off by the time we return, unless the sensors miscue in the uncertain light of early morning. When that happens, the lights…
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143000
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I felt the most afraid I’ve ever felt in my life, like all the unknowns in the universe were rushing through me at once.
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143000
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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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143054
|
So, my wife got fired from her job for being three minutes late five times. But he had it in for her, the fatty boss. He was lazy and she was smart, in line for his job. And she had a workman's comp case against the hospital—she'd slipped in pudding in the cafeteria…
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