1426 11 6
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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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142621
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He turned metal chains to rubber with the force of his mind. He prepared tacos for the paperboy.
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142682
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This is the poem you leave behind that you die in the middle of.
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142683
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The particles of dust didn't want to be looked at
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142610
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His nervous cackle makes me sick - Oh, if only - Times were different - That knife - Would fit so nicely in his back
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142632
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I've been in Tucson two days, and so far most of my conversations with my father have taken place while I crane my neck and squint into the sun. I scream up, he screams down.
He needs to fix the leaky roof before the rainy season, he says.
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1426128
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My mother should have been a minister or a peace officer. Instead, she was a homemaker who ran the home like an agency. There were certain hard and fast rules.
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142621
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The girl lifts my head, and I sit up straight once again. She hands me a pair of old work gloves, helps put them on my swollen hands. She wipes my face with a wet, warm towel. Her thin arms tremble. She cries. I cry.
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142600
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There was a bird on the windowsill, a sparrow, its silhouette backlit by a view of Uptown. She remembered many sparrows during her forced trips to Mercy Hospital...That was all over now...
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142612
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As a boy, he had little hope of ever becoming anything.
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142652
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Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, the Good Lord made them all.
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142584
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142500
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Most women simply don’t want damaged goods. That’s a fact I’ve been brought face to face with throughout my life. It's something you can continue crushing your brains against, like an impossibly high hurdle. At first you take the damage without unde
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142500
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Welcome back to our ongoing coverage of what we mean when we say "Tsunami: A Very Bad Thing."
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142510
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At six a.m. he was awakened by the alarm on the watch, and found he could not remove it from his wrist, though he was able to turn it off. Of course, she was gone, but had left a little patchouli-scented note on a pillow.
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142566
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There I was at the OPEN HOUSE. It was easy, three doors down. The sign on the lawn said, PRICE REDUCED. The real estate lady said, “Back again? Thinking of buying”? I laughed. There were several couples there. People have…
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142511
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"I'm just saying," the older man continues, "We oughta be ready in case she hits."
"We'll be fine," the woman says. "We've weathered every storm that's ever come through here just fine."
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142511
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It was in his teeth. A blackness, a subscription to an outsideness, a painful contraction of burnt out trees scattered there among sand drifts and tidal debris. His face, lightly weathered and troubled, a tightness built into eyes of thought and separation. His arms, strong…
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142522
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A fat kid running;
the sounds of an ice-cream truck
—counterproductive.
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142563
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until i french kiss every atmosphere
my mouth ready to explode
like roman candles
sparking my fingers sparking off the tips
of my sparking fingers
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142554
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I am trying very hard to rhyme,
and trying very hard not to.
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142586
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It’s not that cold but the cold that is/
penetrates layered cloth and soft skin/
to chill the blood in its capillaries
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142585
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I know you probably don’t want to hear any more of this nudist stuff about my family and all, but this Reamer guy was a red-faced German boozehound if there ever was one. He married my brother’s ex-wife Beryl, after Harris left her to her cheap red jug wi
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142510
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Us kids in left field steal out bedroom windows after dark to pinch hit Lucky Strikes between first and second fingers, arc the glow of shop-lifted hot-boxed cigarettes over the chain link homerun fence sprawl on perfectly ridiculous grass passing a bottle…
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142554
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I don’t even want to think about Aethra shtupping Posiden and Aegeus
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142500
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I remember screaming and wanting to run from the living room that time you came home drunk.
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142511
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On his way to his first fishing expedition in the Bay Area, the man remembered the rustle and shimmer of the willows by the muddied Jemez River in New Mexico, cold beer, the clean camaraderie of childhood friends. He walked along a path choked with greenery to the San Pablo…
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14252019
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Threads of sadness in the hands, in the touch
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142584
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He stood with the bride of quietness / on the precipice of questions
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142501
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There's no sky like that
with twisting clouds shot up into by cypress
trees that are so like dark green flames
leaping out of the earth as if a dark green
oily pool were on fire underground,
and this was all that could escape, was
its essence.
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