1355 0 0
|
He ordered a palace built, and the builders came to blows, which is why the father’s eyes have swollen shut, and the oldest son’s knuckles are bright plums.
|
135531
|
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,…
|
135431
|
The BBC's “Sherlock” is among the most popular shows on TV, and there has been much speculation among die-hard fans like myself about what the upcoming fourth season will hold. Having consulted my own crystal ball, here's what I see happening: Irene…
|
135453
|
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,
|
1354115
|
You burnish what is left
until it shines and call it
your own.
|
13541512
|
|
135451
|
He also looked at the tv with a detachment he sensed was dangerous and the sensation scared him so he ran into the kitchen and felt ashamed alone in the hot room and trembled.
|
135421
|
But you're everywhere, how can I move on? It's so easy for people to say, Get over it, the ‘it' being the smell of your skin, your smile, the taste of your lips, always sweet and salty, like a carnival treat. Remember that neon night when we knew it was over, how we…
|
135401
|
[............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................]
|
135444
|
a book of 5 poem-like things I made out of silly string and shot your way when you weren't exactly looking "..kisses are a far better fate/than wisdom."--E.E.CummingsContents:1.The Day's Thin Blue Swim-Suit2. The One Who Needed Let In Most3. I…
|
135465
|
|
135441
|
CALENTURE The horizon is marked with the still sculptures of dead gulls; A young man floats off slowly on the…
|
135443
|
Man, this bearskin rug was a big, awkward sonofabitch on his back....
|
135400
|
Inspired by "The Dunwich Horror"" by H.P. Lovecraft, this excerpt concerns the events in the life of a man who is coming to the awareness that his son has followed in his grandfather's steps and begun the process of conjuring a spirit that killed him.
|
135443
|
Whatever it is, the night vibe feeds off that disadvantage, nibbles at the desperation of those who come here.
|
135420
|
"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
|
135400
|
Wait a minute, said Ben. What do we really know?
|
135300
|
Welcome back to our ongoing coverage of what we mean when we say "Tsunami: A Very Bad Thing."
|
135380
|
|
135311
|
May is National Masturbation Month. How do I know? My pal Senior Sex Expert Joan Price is not only vigorously celebrating, but doing everything she can to spread the word.“I'm on it!” I assured her when she told me. “Thanks.”…
|
135320
|
They shoveled coal into the furnace of the city so the ghosts would be warm for their haunting.
|
135320
|
Darkness on my mind
doesn't make me blind.
|
135321
|
In college, I made friends with my Jewish roommate. Her name was Leah and she was from Brooklyn. When she asked me home with her for Thanksgiving, she mentioned we could go to synagogue together. I asked if there would be other black people there. "No," Leah…
|
135353
|
Over the electronic horizon at an invisible distance nuclear reactors melt like ice cream and release tiny black lines of radiation that wriggle in the air like worms
|
135365
|
Posit butterflies/
as evidence of heavenly design.
|
135334
|
Dark morning sleet whitecrusts the world
once more, shrouds remains
of January thaw:
|
135300
|
Welcome to the world of (un)reality television. He/she who dies with the most stories wins. Another kind of religion. The Church of Being Famous For Whatever.
|
135332
|
I guess it was, you know, a daze thing: He, lightly drunk, turning red in parts of his head, in his cheeks mostly, and his chest, to which my eyes were drawn because of his v-neck douchebag shirt; and I, sleepy beyond belief, sustained like a zombie only
|
135321
|
Jade in the emperor’s death
mouth – to the grave – all openings
closed – no breath – no air – no life
to enter to leave – the end should
be silent – you stop my mouth
|
135372
|
If I should stumble into cheerfulness/
remind me of all the business models
|
