1371 2 1
|
Dawn is a grey mass, what is left of the night's chill slips between my t-shirt and belly skin. Somewhere else you once wrote that being loved when you don't love in return equals rape.
|
137122
|
"Which way ought we to go from here," he asked.
She smiled again, "that all depends on where we want to get to." He nodded but didn't laugh so she sighed and strolled around the room, tuning and looking and considering her options.
|
137100
|
We transplant helix° splices and
shoot back to meet our former selves, zip the
scrolls, and save the world. Then you said spin
so I twisted my jumper over and
over in
endless folds like lips, like vaginas, like
seacreatures
|
137172
|
If I should stumble into cheerfulness/
remind me of all the business models
|
137155
|
|
137192
|
i think god composed afternoons with crayons
|
137020
|
By the time she reached home, dinner would be there in thirty minutes, on the table. Not a lively table, just politeness, and calm. There were no issues of the day that needed discussing, no problems to be solved.
|
137098
|
we’ll never win/
the ongoing battle with dirt.
|
137010
|
Then there she is, and she makes me love-sad; it's a vehement, absolute, hard love-sad no one else needs to understand, though they can see; it's an emotion so concrete it's felt from the chest, not from a tenuous concept called heart.
|
137000
|
His cheeks were extremely pink but the pink was not the shade usually associated with good health, it was the pink of Death.
|
137021
|
“The minute I stopped wondering about
the meaning of life is when I
finally started enjoying life.”
|
137043
|
destroy the day
rip up the track
jump in the water
eat nothing but bugs
|
1370139
|
|
137000
|
What can I offer you, White Moon?This full night lays black before your stoic assent—and Ibreathe my final breath, frantic—for you. I wait, damned,a bestial lover in the broken dark of the variety market, whisperinga word of forgiveness to an empty window. I…
|
137043
|
My accordion's name is Sophia and she is from Italy. She was born in fairytale fashion, the way my life in Madrid can sometimes be. A great and nurturing friend gathered money from many friends in our village, to buy me an accordion for my birthday. It was…
|
137020
|
I drove all night, but there weren’t nothing Roy Orbison about it. I’d been driving and around lunchtime I just thought I might stop by Shona’s place.
|
137030
|
These are not the caffeinated men of barbaric lore.
|
137000
|
Who remains after the aching night has departed into dawn
and left us to week-old sleep
|
137065
|
You don’t want to tango with me, she said.
|
137031
|
. . . why did it take so long?
|
137000
|
“Now, “Pour Some Sugar on Me” is a hit of the eighties.”
|
137022
|
|
137000
|
Ben was stuck between sweet essences and rancid Talmudic funk. It was going to be a long trip.
|
137000
|
Normally, after her shift, Linda would make herself a latte, untie her apron, and study at one of the tables. That evening, however, KEXP kept playing songs with grating guitar riffs, and loud laughers were everywhere. She chugged her coffee, burning her tongue. Then, she…
|
137052
|
“My name is Violet,” I add. I am trying to stop lying. Going without cigarettes has been easier.
|
137000
|
The night before, his dad had stumbled in drunk and beat his mother. John had covered his ears with his pillow to block out their screams.
|
137033
|
had I gotten home without knowing it? well . . .
|
137088
|
Then he said something that really made sense, said he kept a blank check in his back pocket...
|
137043
|
He began to chop the powdery substance and separate it into segments.
|
1370125
|
They talk but they don’t really / talk
|
