1320 2 0
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They shoveled coal into the furnace of the city so the ghosts would be warm for their haunting.
|
132065
|
Clasped his hands behind his head to give a moment’s thought to love and how it had never quite clarified in his mind to run pure and sweet.
|
132032
|
All the time I'm eating I can't help but think of the many different tuna melts I have ordered in diners and coffee shops and how each of them disappointed me...
|
132052
|
I’m up to my ass in social media.
|
132064
|
The voice is back! That voice, like milk and honey, like mother, like the school nurse who bandaged my scraped knee.
|
1320127
|
When exactly does cheese go bad? it simply does not, I say.
|
132083
|
The particles of dust didn't want to be looked at
|
132072
|
If I should stumble into cheerfulness/
remind me of all the business models
|
132054
|
|
132088
|
It all began with me. I was first and for many years, the only.
|
131930
|
So this was how it started. The next day Kia returned to sit with him a bit and the next day and the day after that until the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months. Eventually she found out his name was Saul, that he had no 'proper' job, was o
|
131942
|
Does he pack you a lunch when you're running late for work? Even when you're not running late? Does he insist on regular medical check-ups, for which he'll pay because you don't have insurance? Will he disapprove of your objectionable behavior, and not turn the…
|
131900
|
Six just left to drive 8 hours thru the jungle. They’ll emerge in a year in military guerilla uniforms. One guy threw up getting in.
A friend writes, “I started a Free Mike Todaro Campaign. Hope to raise a couple of hundred dollars. We will, of co
|
131911
|
1. Jesus made the United States of Chimerica from the hide of a gator he killed with his bare hands back in the winter of '81.2. The people of the United States of Chimerica are watched over by a straight-talkin' angel with hillbilly eyes and a crown of nuclear missiles.3.…
|
1319128
|
the tall, thin ectomorph sat
on the verdant, green grass
as the unclothed naked woman
on the Sunday-picnic blanket
poured white cow’s milk
into a vodka shot glass
|
131910
|
machine utility of thought,
intangible aesthetic of sentiment.
|
131931
|
The Campus Socialists
Paul and Mary Jo lived in an apartment at the top of a long, dark flight of stairs that were so high, I remember as if it were yesterday thinking, the night she pushed him down the stairs, he would surely be dead by the time h
|
131994
|
Fear I’ll be stuck here without a ladder
|
131931
|
This is a very impromptu piece written at two in the morning based on a prompt from Meg Pokrass, who insisted the following words be used: fussyhairybloomingslipperyflutterdamppaleweedsyanking “Maxfuss” was his password, which was appropriate,…
|
131932
|
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
|
1319177
|
the burning thrusts/
of yellow in defiance of the frost
|
131952
|
“My name is Violet,” I add. I am trying to stop lying. Going without cigarettes has been easier.
|
131963
|
I signed up for functional
I did not ask for this mixed bag
of broken glass
I have enough to swallow
|
131810
|
I remember a time when Calvin, my husband, was like Winnie the Pooh and I was a jar of fine Provençal honey. No amount of my sweetness could satisfy his craving for me. He would spread me on his toast with butter at breakfast and mix me with peanut butter
|
131810
|
|
131810
|
Victor didn't want to be alone, so he phoned Sophie.
|
131888
|
for spirits and demons have no life/
but what imagination gives
|
131854
|
Suddenly, the room was filled with a screaming vortex directed at a pinpoint in the corner. Timmy's bureau was gone and everything loose in the room was flying towards the spot it had occupied. Timmy stood up in horror. He tried to seal this rent by tossi
|
131830
|
He's got a rager for Casablanca, the old Bogart and Bergman classic. I can't snap him out of it.
|
1318116
|
Irony is written sarcasm. Sarcasm is spoken irony: the opposite of what is meant. Catholic irony in fiction seems deeper and more related to theme. Protestant irony starts with P as do other þing.
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