1395 1 1
|
Carla woke up from her hospital bed screaming.
"Somebody please help me. Please save me. I am begging you."
|
139486
|
That is a six-word story. Notice that the meaning does not change with the word count. Syllabic count: pentameter (ten). Keep these commas.
|
139442
|
So we stayed on the train admiring the time.
|
139480
|
|
139400
|
|
139433
|
Tokarsky and I got chased off an El train by a couple of mean-looking black dudes who looked like they were going to crush us. I let go a spritz of tear gas that I had on me in the train and we ran as it came to a stop at the Morris Street stop. They chas
|
139444
|
What’s your favorite emotion? Mine is ripping the sky apart and standing on a star outside of time.
|
139411
|
always thought you'd show up with a good friendly grin, your heart full of gnosis and the rest of you dressed in denim or terrene hues,back from across the world to honor our sacrosanct thing maybe it would be in the wind chiseled afternoon,or the dusk by tables…
|
1394138
|
last night a girl came
to me in the shape
of my suicide.
|
139487
|
The musician’s wife had a roving eye. He didn't care. He liked being married to a wild and crazy woman.
|
139440
|
Sometimes I think there's an octopus in my stomach. In the mornings it stretches and droops its lazy head to one side — It suctions it's tentacles to the walls of my belly and pulls them together forcing me To gag, and vomit what we didn't digest of the…
|
139410
|
“Do you have a job? Are you going back to school,” I asked, you know, because I’m hip like that.
|
1394178
|
|
139353
|
—Mr. Martinelli, can you explain how you developed your painting technique?
|
139321
|
The artist with fork and trowel.
The paint; soil, seed, seedling or plug.
|
139300
|
At the annual Earth Day celebration, Frieda looked up in the sky and saw a lone goose. It had caught her attention with its call, echoing off the buildings and trees.
|
1393109
|
We’re on The Worm. I dread the part where the train goes under the bay. I hold my breath until we safely emerge.
|
139333
|
my pilgrim tongue
on the map of
your body
seeks sanctuary
|
139300
|
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.
|
139364
|
The voice is back! That voice, like milk and honey, like mother, like the school nurse who bandaged my scraped knee.
|
13932019
|
Threads of sadness in the hands, in the touch
|
139355
|
I don’t see the problem. In the country I come from, language is the best part of the game.
|
139343
|
Some fiftysomething woman with a small dog in her arms was waiting for him, backstage. Security hadn't succeeded in restraining her. Strange.
|
139301
|
When the telephone rang the fallow fields we lay in years ago became distant countries, filled with falling stars. The distant country into which you had disappeared became a pistol with a single bullet in the chamber.
|
139300
|
Whenever Lady Gaga took the stage,
We peons on the benches cheered for her:
She dripped of jewels and paint, and blessed sage,
Wore meat as the antithesis to fur.
|
139351
|
As a kid he had run away from the family farm and shoveled coal back East to put himself through college. Now he was just another old man in a nursing home, desperate for a drink, his blue eyes bleary, a sticky goo filming at the corners of his lips.
|
139333
|
WAITING FOR HURRICANE DENNIS, FLORIDA 2005 With soft eyes, she quizzed, shivered, said: “Where's Dad? Where's Ric? Will you leave me here alone? Are you all going to leave? Where's Peter? Do you feel all right? We're…
|
1393158
|
But even if the truth
Never sets me free
I'll know this ain't the end of me
|
139320
|
These fern-like weeds grow along the roads. “Watch this,” you say, bending down over a plant. The touch of your fingertip sets it recoiling, stunned–a fun, jungle trick you picked up somewhere along your way.
|
139210
|
Victor didn't want to be alone, so he phoned Sophie.
|
