1401 3 3
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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?”
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140165
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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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140141
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His only sibling had passed a few years back and his mother was the only one left of a gaggle of 7 brothers and sisters and their spouses. The turning of the generations, from birth to grave, was always a bit like the tilling of the ancestral soil. A new
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140197
|
“I fly in my dreams,” his mother said. “It's my privilege.”
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140131
|
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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140185
|
The thrum and the thrust//
have beaten conviviality out of me.
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140194
|
My time glass allocation nears its end.
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140120
|
They shoveled coal into the furnace of the city so the ghosts would be warm for their haunting.
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140100
|
His cheeks were extremely pink but the pink was not the shade usually associated with good health, it was the pink of Death.
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140195
|
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140110
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140130
|
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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140153
|
The cats sniff at the small opening,/
one by one, in a furtive casualness./
They think the outside air is sweet
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140100
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Who remains after the aching night has departed into dawn
and left us to week-old sleep
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140100
|
" ... that’s a seriously good result for an opening night."
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140143
|
I told about the time during the early part of WW II when I shook hands with a member of the Flying Tigers. He was home on leave, and he stopped by to see my dad, who had been his scout master.
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140154
|
What the hell is going on out here!? Yelled the man with the shotgun
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140133
|
Jo was tailored, Amy was frivolous with ribbons and bows, Meg was plain and sensible; and Beth, who was ill and had no costume changes, wore the same nightgown throughout the dress-up session.
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140031
|
a random sticker that says, Repent Sinner, and a club lineup snaking around the corner and sirens and that urine smell at alley's mouth
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140075
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140000
|
Howling, prowling, yowling Baby Dykes, stalkin' chicks, throwin' fits, takin' hits! A thousand thigh divin', rosebud nipped, fur licking dancin' cats, (Claws in, claws
out! Yes!) sniffin' that cradle of love.
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140032
|
The retina was burning, the liquid had dried up, and the veins bursting. My eyes bled. But I kept them open. The sound was like nails on glass, screeching endlessly. Coming close to me louder, harder, faster.
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140053
|
It's not a funeral. Nobody to mourn over.
|
140054
|
We are a city of overworked workers.
|
140065
|
Clasped his hands behind his head to give a moment’s thought to love and how it had never quite clarified in his mind to run pure and sweet.
|
140032
|
Self-possession. He had it. In his arctic white t-shirt; blonde haired, broad shouldered, unburdened. “I will make you love me,” he had said, in a bar.
|
140032
|
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
|
140010
|
Seems hot for a Thursday, doesn’t it?
|
140000
|
the odd stone stands/taller than trees/it protrudes from the young forest/an old mecca but smooth
|
140044
|
Poems reflect their poets. /
Mine: ugly but loved. /
It is just as well.
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