1326 2 1
|
She said it feels wrong. Too wet, she said. I snickered, she smacked.
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132600
|
-Someone could have boosted this easy as pie, Ben said to himself.
|
132622
|
He cleaned off the pump with a steel brush. Then he took it out to the pressure washer. Out there was where a lady that looked like a witch used to move around and sit on the fences like a crow. The air was humid, and the men were dressed in heavy blue coveralls.…
|
132600
|
“You've got to be kidding me. A robot?”, said Marge as she rotated in the chair at her desk. She removed the leaf of paper from the typewriter and set in down on the desk. She looked up at Parkins who was leaning against the wall nursing a cold cup of…
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132600
|
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.
|
132611
|
Our revolutionaries
Have evolved into gamekeepers
|
132642
|
We laughed like lords and lunatics
Our schematics stretched before us
|
132640
|
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…
|
132611
|
Joseph and his little brother, Kevin, were there again. Kevin was too small to understand what had happened yet. He would usually just go off, running around the statues and playing with the wreaths; the last time they'd visited he climbed a tree and broke one of the…
|
132632
|
Airwave candy
lyrical brandy
brass band singer.
|
132642
|
As the silence starts gashing I decide it's the moment to take all my thoughts for a walk; To a sound like a million lightbulbs shutting their fuses I resume my view, Across the sun-strobe streets with blind nightlamps; the safflower sun is lopped on its stalk …
|
1326147
|
A brief colorful season/
and then the fall as winds/
break the hold the leaves have
|
132542
|
He adopts a stance known as Part the Wild Horse’s Mane but calls it a different name--the Part the Hair of the Skanky Barmaid for a Bleachjob position.
|
132521
|
lucy had simply taken a kitchen knife and removed the outer layer, the layer of things people notice
|
132500
|
It is not rough like most grappa, but smooth like good whisky. It removes all edges, freezes the tongue and erases the memory.
|
132545
|
She arranged to have an abortion at a doctor Greene’s office, who practiced out of a converted house on Solano Avenue on the north side of Berkeley. I took her there the day of the procedure. You couldn’t go to a regular hospital to have this kind of thi
|
132597
|
communication/
with the dead
|
132511
|
|
132500
|
"‘Man-hater’ is such a harsh term,” she says. “I really like it.”
|
132511
|
There’s a room
Full of white
And it smells
Like bleach and
Iron
|
132598
|
we’ll never win/
the ongoing battle with dirt.
|
132500
|
His cheeks were extremely pink but the pink was not the shade usually associated with good health, it was the pink of Death.
|
132531
|
i ask you what i taste like and you say "not much."
|
132511
|
The man was sitting at his makeshift kitchen table. He was forty-five years old. He wore his mortarboard with tassel whenever he left his home. Once inside either a reputable establishment or one generally considered less so, he was sure to take off his m
|
132542
|
Standing there as you walked away from me that late March afternoon, in the park off Meridian Street, the spring tableau seemed
|
1325129
|
For the new year, I´ve given up palm oil.
Made shopping a whole lot harder.
Damn orangutans tugging at my conscience.
|
132532
|
The young monk rose early to jog,
his appetites trailing like
cats in heat.
|
132587
|
. . . the roar of fire speaks lasting heat . . . .
|
132542
|
whatever weaknesses you displayed//
as empathetic human fellow traveler,/
your command of English survives you,//
on into the last echoes of the human/
once we’re gone.
|
132520
|
I barely scraped the sleep out of my eyes when I heard the shrill crying from outside the kitchen window, and I recalled one of the many reasons cats can't be trusted. You see, they're evolutionarily wired to imitate the sound of a crying human baby, so when they…
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