1378 17 9
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The cornbread for dressing cools./
The cranberries boil with one cup each/
of sugar and water. The aromas are nice
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137811
|
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.”…
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137833
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I’m well aware of the shadow stalking just to my left, her mannish voice flirting with my sensibilities.
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137853
|
It's not a funeral. Nobody to mourn over.
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137830
|
Frank cut the tip of his finger off and it sort of shot over to the lettuce bin. The blood pumped out in tiny jets as he covered it with the palm of his other hand and ran to the sink. He pointed it in the sink and turned the water on, he could see…
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137811
|
I noticed Sean changed after his grounding. We no longer played night soldiers around the block, no longer biked to the creek to catch crayfish he'd crush with his boots. Sean stopped hunting lizards, stopped charging smaller kids toll to pass…
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137831
|
My first time alone with the women in Saudi Arabia...
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137865
|
Sometimes the dirt just stays dirt
|
137811
|
Been running so long
You've been running so long
I bet you can't remember
What you're running from
|
137765
|
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 …
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137721
|
Love is easy. Lazy. Fickle.
|
137720
|
They shoveled coal into the furnace of the city so the ghosts would be warm for their haunting.
|
137741
|
CALENTURE The horizon is marked with the still sculptures of dead gulls; A young man floats off slowly on the…
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137742
|
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137753
|
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
|
137761
|
Minnie looked at her co-worker's nametag. "Destiny," she said to her. That's a pretty name. It suits you. You're an attractive young lady. Is your momma pretty?"
"Not like I am," Destiny said as she smoothed her shiny black hair. "I'm honest about it 'ca
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137733
|
in case something went wrong
|
137721
|
I tell him if he wants to impress a girl he should learn to cook. He shifts his body. I add, crab cakes work well.
|
137633
|
His friend Boner, who was more accurately a friend of Milo, who was a friend of his cousin in Dubai and who had, up until this post, seemed to share thoughts in common with him, posted, “Holy Shit, Dude! What’re You On?”
|
137631
|
When Beez and I were visiting D.C., Beez saw MDW after many years and said, almost so that MDW could hear him if he wished, “His hair looks like Beethoven’s.”
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137600
|
[WE'LL LET *YOU* BE THE JUDGE!]
|
137666
|
The moon, a cataract cloaked in its charcoal fog, slowly seeps among the trees; night's unguent.Its glance is constant and white,its arc known. I watch its brow of bone with constant wonder.The long, slow funeral of America is taking its time; its…
|
137651
|
Bardan O'Connor stared at himself in the mirror but didn't recognize the image before him. He was pale and looked like death. He tried to psyche himself up for the latest show with a shot of Irish whiskey. He slapped himself hard in the face. "Get it together man." The…
|
137643
|
I got one good hubcap
I lost the other 3
I just don’t know
What the heck is wrong with me
I got one good hubcap
As you can plainly see
The other 3 were seen
Just a-hanging from a tree
That’s what must’ve happened
When I ran my car ri
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137675
|
it acquires a fine translucence
|
137642
|
It was almost like I was dreaming, he is saying, my visit to the ruins of the factory that made the first Narrative Machines.
|
137600
|
I. The cowboy of my heart rides high in the saddle. Behind him, the long tail of his speeding palomino, golden — like the hair to the girls I was later to want so desperately — stands straight out from his sweating, muscular haunches. It's time.…
|
137622
|
...she did wish she lived somewhere in Ancient Rome, and from one of those seven hills, perhaps during sunset, she would resolve to roll down and meet the flaming orb just as it descended so she would dissolve into embers and ash...
|
137610
|
they say the sense of smell is the strongest sense connected to memory, but not for me
|
137510
|
I remember a time when Calvin, my husband, was like Winnie the Pooh and I was a jar of fine Provençal honey. No amount of my sweetness could satisfy his craving for me. He would spread me on his toast with butter at breakfast and mix me with peanut butter
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