1159 6 3
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What was it about the aged and cookies? Here was another one that relished them. Sebastian's grandmother was a specialist. People on the outside thought she was a bird enthusiast. Grandma could be seen refilling the bird feeders at all hours. After the morning…
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115988
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It all began with me. I was first and for many years, the only.
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115833
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Well, hello
hunger: what a sweet surprise.
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115820
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Uncles. Cousins. Enos. No matter how loosely a net is woven, eventually the strands come together again.
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1158107
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115800
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A thing of beauty is a joy forever. Also a thing with bodacious knockers.
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115811
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115800
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when I said good morning I meant
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115897
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I COULD always sleep. Go "home" now and sleep. My body and my fetus—who complain of this torture—would appreciate sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have to try to wake.
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115885
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I was so high on the not knowing, I thought, you will love me for my confusion. And so I allowed myself to reach further inward than either of us felt comfortable. I imagined a delicious vanilla pudding at the core of my exploration, sweet and satisfying enough for me to…
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115720
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He sat behind her in Honors English, each day studying everything about her.......
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115732
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When we were leaving to go to the ice rink, Lynda surprised all of us by saying she wanted to come along. She slid all the way over in the front seat to be next to me, while one of my buddies, Miller, who had his eye on her himself, slid into the passen
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115700
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Her eyes creaked open in the misty morning sun seeping through my dusty window. From her facial expression, I could tell she thought I was watching her sleep, but really I had just woken up and coincidentally looked over at the exact moment she did. I decided against …
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115754
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Eroica sprawled among/
the horns and violins
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115711
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I had put the child's wagon, which had been red once, back together again. “Honey”, I said, “I found out the garbagemen will pick up concrete this month.” So, I put…
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115766
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They shoot up through the soles of their feet
once the veins in their arms are all used up.
They shoot up in their necks
like the cows on the African Savannah
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115720
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As we follow the trail and things snap beneath our feet, I tell myself that the snapped things take pleasure, find purpose even, in the sounds they make with my soles.
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11571610
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We're in a sedate forest next to a boisterous beach. The sky is sea green above the trees and forest green above Sinepuxent Bay. Chaste squirrels are keeping a lookout for bad-boy gulls. Kids on circus bikes ride out of the woods into their bathing suits. The…
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115785
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I could tell you right nowwhat I'm thinking aboutbut that would not be sacrificeenough. Takes all kinds, and youonly listen when it'ssomething you think is instantlyoverpowering. I swear, there's always something not quiteright with you. There's a silly left…
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115742
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Late in the morning, standing in line, clutching a bag of Meow Mix, I listen to the woman waiting behind me. She's having a cell phone conversation about the Treasures of Ancient Egypt exhibit. It‘s in New Orleans, she says, and the kids liked the mummy. I slide…
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115700
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This will take forever. I’ll never get to Antibes to meet Isabella, much less make it to Marseille to deliver the picture and then catch the overnight train to Paris. I may have to call Jean-Claude Lyon, the orchestra manager of the Monte Carlo orchestra,
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115741
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For hours and hours she swirled, and swirled some more. She was trying to be there for everyone, yet no one realized how much pain they were causing her. Some of them had thrown invisible darts of anger all day, and she had endured each one, because she c
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115765
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115720
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Poets die every day but are seldom in position to put the experience to literary merit.
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11571710
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the moon tops the monolith
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115798
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decline the proffered hand
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115743
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There is a dead factory. It sits on the tip of a small piece of land which extends into a forgotten lake, like a giant dirty-inked thumb pressed against a faded blue sheet of paper.
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115610
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The broken car horn wailed for 40 days and 40 nights.
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115621
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He kept one scarf. It was the scarf that she would tie around his eyes to play with him, long, until he was in his teens. A silly game that made her happy and he squirmed with delight until he got too old. She did not want him to see her, only to know if
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1156148
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In the evening the curtain recounts its day. Faces, images, incidents it has observed from the window. Its voice is nuanced, modulated, quivering, for it is made of lace. It appears to crochet its words with needle sounds. My eyes, during confinement, are not wide open, not…
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