1231 6 3
|
I signed up for functional
I did not ask for this mixed bag
of broken glass
I have enough to swallow
|
123088
|
for spirits and demons have no life/
but what imagination gives
|
123055
|
They’re young and haughty.
27’s still a long ways off.
They read about the famous,
not the dead.
Dusty dragonflies will not
land upon them,
and they are really only in love
with the dishwasher.
Now there’s a problem.
Poetry is dead,
|
1230120
|
Your son is six feet tall in the sixth grade. By his sophomore year of high school, he outweighs you by a hundred pounds. He's been offered four football scholarships and one for a sport he's never played. Every morning his mother, your ex ex-wife, makes his breakfast of a…
|
123051
|
Bardan O'Connor stared at himself in the mirror but didn't recognize the image before him. He was pale and looked like death. He tried to psyche himself up for the latest show with a shot of Irish whiskey. He slapped himself hard in the face. "Get it together man." The…
|
123000
|
this is your hair, this is your stare, this is your voice
|
123042
|
In the end they talked a lot, shared what they could, both seemingly trying to rekindle something that was no longer hot, and yet they could not let go of each other. Year after year would prove that. Right then, just then, it seemed that the physical par
|
123000
|
Hank: Yeah, the way her head was bashed in, it looks like someone really had it in for her. Did you call the coroner?
Bill: Yeah. Boy, you couldn’t pay me enough to do the stuff those coroner and medical examiner guys do. It seems like
|
123055
|
They’ve deduced she’s still of sound mind and body. What do they know?
|
123000
|
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
|
123043
|
He began to chop the powdery substance and separate it into segments.
|
123032
|
Hope is the thing playing checkers
|
123044
|
Charted stars by the dozens /
with a side of frizzle onions /
dawn showers us with glitter.
|
123075
|
There are many ways to cope effectively with your life after a Les Miserables run, and everyone is different, but here are some things that have helped others work through the process.
|
123043
|
I'm writing our initials in black sharpie on the tunnel wall. There's already people who have come before me, hundreds of pairs of Qs and As and hearts in the middle, through a small hole in the brick I can hear the French accents, spinning through, a reminder that I am…
|
123011
|
Adam hitched his dinosaur to a covered wagon. He drove the Virgin Mary to the Faire. Shiva rode behind them in a silver limousine combing out his long and flowing hair.
|
123011
|
#ShortStory #writers
are failed #poets...
|
122932
|
Friday afternoon. Angelique Brody knocked Francesco’s studio door.
|
122900
|
-Someone could have boosted this easy as pie, Ben said to himself.
|
122941
|
In praise of the colorful flock with crowns
of teased cotton candy rising high above
Modular walls, stalled operating systems
staling coffee and pale corner offices
|
122900
|
a white rabbit with a dirty monocle and a straw hat regarded marsha from the grass at the edge of the mud.
|
12291612
|
“Have the cousins arrived?”
|
122932
|
I spent the evening looking at our old pictures. /
We were never happy. I realize that now.
|
122912
|
I slept and it was pleasant. Then there was the kiss, and it was hot. Later you turned away, and all was November chill. Now there are touches, caresses and shouts, Marvelous nights flavored with favors bestowed, and blackened days,…
|
122995
|
|
1229177
|
Eat the Body/
Drink the Blood/
Perfect the sacrifice,
|
1229108
|
If you stop, you starve//
and they just offer what you do/
to others, starved already,/
and schooled, as you, in servitude.
|
122997
|
I’m on Discord but I don’t know how to do anything.
|
122942
|
As the silence starts gashing I decide it's the moment to take all my thoughts for a walk; To a sound like a million lightbulbs shutting their fuses I resume my view, Across the sun-strobe streets with blind nightlamps; the safflower sun is lopped on its stalk …
|
122920
|
"Already he is running and flying to the center of the world" - Mircea Eliade, about what a shaman is up to, under his mask.
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