1393 5 2
|
If Heaven holds forth its own Infinity, What of selves, of ours, could we stand to see? Cradled with harsh fangs of Memory, Deep forgetfulness, give rather me- Let bright dreams be our self's divinity: Forever holds, in morrow's hours, such little…
|
139253
|
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,
|
139220
|
2. Travel To Somewhere Fascinating, Even In Your Own Back Yard!
|
139242
|
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…
|
139211
|
"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."
|
139200
|
There was a motley assortment of customers in the restaurant. Mostly casually dressed young men and women who looked like freelancers of some persuasion.
|
139231
|
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
|
139253
|
Somebody left CNN on all night long
until the news cycle flipped, crashed
and burned
in its own ruins
|
139222
|
Inspired by the photographic work of Susan Lipper. Grapevine series, 1988-92.
http://susanlipper.com/gv_23.html
|
139243
|
It starts on the Fallopian Speedway:
|
139233
|
I imaged him at his mother's house, eating chicken and tabouli with her at her round marble table, leaning back and laughing, then reading my “love you” and excusing himself to cry in the bathroom.
|
139287
|
In the quiet dark, fathers reappear.
|
139231
|
The phone rang again at midnight. Maury sat straight up in bed, a reflex from his days in the barracks. Linda, his wife, was already sitting up. In the hint of moonlight, she dabbed her nose with a wadded tissue and made helpless little noises. Maury…
|
1392108
|
I call upon all cashiers in dungarees...
I call upon the baristas in rags...
I call upon those whose
sinister principles tax the weakness of their conscience...
I call upon all those deracinated by dreaming big...
|
139100
|
Welcome back to our ongoing coverage of what we mean when we say "Tsunami: A Very Bad Thing."
|
139100
|
"Commander of the Armies of the Four Winds" concerns a nightmare endured by Commander Daniel Bennett of the San Diego Police Department after he is assigned to recover the stolen Necromancer Artifact, which purports to invoke nefarious spirits imprisoned
|
139144
|
There are some I don’t recognize. My gaze lingers for a second. It’s bad business this.
|
139188
|
for spirits and demons have no life/
but what imagination gives
|
139120
|
These are the days you wish would never end.
|
1391147
|
Through the Walmart parking lot
they came...
|
139121
|
Everyone is tromping around in work boots like an army of happy gardeners. The park is smiling from all this attention, from the sound of kids who think work is play. It's not even sunny but we don't mind. I know you don't. Grey days are just as good. They've…
|
139187
|
The musician’s wife had a roving eye. He didn't care. He liked being married to a wild and crazy woman.
|
139172
|
and the President didn't call.
|
139133
|
No preview available due to the brevity of the piece. In fact, this comment itself is longer than the piece.
|
139120
|
"No idea yet, why it was so important, what could it possibly mean to her? Was it someone who she knew, a distant relative, a character for her novel, something was just so strangely haunting about it that she could see it even when she did not have it in
|
139100
|
It must have been then and in those days and during that time when the grass and short brush, like so much amber and jade, emerged from the snow and the poet Li Po, who while traveling within the ten thousand crags of the Tanggula Mountains, looked up…
|
139185
|
Mari thinks that's all fine and fucking dandy.
|
139100
|
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.
|
139022
|
“Gentlemen, how could I go about attracting the KGB?”
Now that got the attention of Boris and Vladimir. Their eyes bulged right out of their heads. They both started huffing and puffing.
“What are you, crazyman or something?” said Boris.
Vla
|
139011
|
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…
|
