1377 4 4
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The consequences follow from here:
the shine of forbidden knowing
the apple soon offered to Adam
the twined Serpent’s hidden fangs
|
137700
|
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.
|
137751
|
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.
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137732
|
she sees that no one has considered her needsshe feels left out, and so she strikes outon the offensive, nostrils flaringpoints her finger and makes her caseshe has been wronged, justified in her angershe will not back downthe accused one is hurtstrikes back with her own…
|
137611
|
I laughed hysterically at Austin Powers.
|
137653
|
—Mr. Martinelli, can you explain how you developed your painting technique?
|
137632
|
Life strikes another blow and away I go: back to the cave to sleep, read, write, dream, soothed by rocking chair therapy, spend hours on hours looking at photo memories, lighting incense and candles, crying, howling out the injustices smothering me. …
|
137600
|
Her friend had been drunk, and sometimes after two or three quarts of beer, he'd tell people that he was Jewish.
|
137600
|
For so long as I think I shall live.
|
137683
|
She waited on the hot, broken pavement, arm outstretched, her thumb a ticket to a distant, refracted horizon. Waves of heat danced like undulating snakes under the spell of a charmer. She pictured herself passing through them, abandoning the green of home for the…
|
137600
|
[WE'LL LET *YOU* BE THE JUDGE!]
|
137633
|
I’m well aware of the shadow stalking just to my left, her mannish voice flirting with my sensibilities.
|
137633
|
my pilgrim tongue
on the map of
your body
seeks sanctuary
|
137643
|
Whatever it is, the night vibe feeds off that disadvantage, nibbles at the desperation of those who come here.
|
137663
|
On the phone I asked my mother how she was doing.
“I’m getting old,” she said. “Going slow. But getting there. I’m ninety-four!”
My mother was always 94, when she was really 93. I remember she was 93 right after she turned 92. And 92
|
137631
|
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,…
|
137633
|
No preview available due to the brevity of the piece. In fact, this comment itself is longer than the piece.
|
137666
|
Flew a Messerschmitt.
Drove a tank over people in Poland
though not in Prague,
and claimed he was never a guard
at the death camps.
|
137653
|
I build pedestals.It's hard workHeld together by sweat, love, and lofty thoughts - an unsound foundation.The tiniest bit of heartbreak,and it comes crashing down. Always, I blame the builder and not the vandal. The next one will be…
|
137655
|
I don’t see the problem. In the country I come from, language is the best part of the game.
|
137697
|
Is it my imagination, or is her chair afraid of her?
|
1376117
|
--small chin, timid mouth, frail nose, weak narrow-set eyes--
|
137600
|
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.
|
137542
|
III. Through wheelwind crypts of mystery, through…
|
137565
|
A nuclear-plant fuel rod engineer, Dimitri Kastrotov, had an axe to grind, so invented an atomic deterrent, to counterbalance mankind. He targeted the filthy rich, greedy sons of a bitch, breeding war, weapons and nukes at a reckless fever pitch After …
|
137521
|
The artist with fork and trowel.
The paint; soil, seed, seedling or plug.
|
137522
|
A fat kid running;
the sounds of an ice-cream truck
—counterproductive.
|
137553
|
It's not a funeral. Nobody to mourn over.
|
137531
|
They’re coming now. Thousands of them. Black wings, antennas, spindly legs.
|
137533
|
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