1338 10 8
|
Once with the lights flickering....
|
133822
|
“plain before my eyes” said he eyes swathed in bandages covering sight
oozing yellow fluid is this life thought i
|
133811
|
There is a false dawn,
when night still holds sway, but tempered with promise; anticipation.
|
133841
|
This time is different. The dream doesn’t continue with endless walking.
|
133841
|
|
133800
|
The Gringovitch family was gathered in the lobby of the hotel. The boys sat on the floor using their packs as back supports. Francesca Gringovitch sat on a chair with the remaining luggage in front of her.
|
133800
|
when I said good morning I meant
|
133810
|
Me leaving is not the confirmation of all your fears. It is not. It's because of them.
|
133863
|
Sorrow fences with fear and questions
|
133821
|
Tonight’s concert was called Desert.
|
133897
|
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.
|
133700
|
Detective-Sergeant Claude Mulvihill sat in his squad car, which was parked on 54th Street in front of Bright Star Recording Studios. He had just finished the second of two jelly donuts and was spiking his coffee with three packets of sugar.
|
13371310
|
I'll see her this fall, a redhead in camo
|
133722
|
There it was
One abandoned high heel shoe on the sidewalk
Could have been
Some kind of robbery
Though
Maybe it was just
The beginning of the
Walk of shame
|
133732
|
If someone were to place a rabbit in her lap right now, there would be nothing she could do to hold onto it. It would leap. Drop. Hie its powerful body elsewhere. At the end of her life she would have nothing to show but a collection of rabbit-shaped empt
|
133742
|
He saw in her something fierce and wild
and gently led her to
his open palm...
|
133701
|
Ben gagged after shot-gunning the scotch. He hiccupped and it came back up through his nose. He grabbed a napkin and caught most of a shot and a half of Whyte & MacKay as it poured out his nose.
|
133722
|
The son stood on the porch with his grip packed. "I'm off to mine me a fortune a gold, Daddy." "Boy, there's a fortune in gold right here," said the father, indicating the ripe wheat, glowing in early morning sun. The kid slumped. "Pop, you turn over a rock there,…
|
133700
|
For as long as John could remember, he loved to blow up things. It started back in grade school with firecrackers and cherry bombs—he would put them in toys, tin cans, shit like that to see what would happen. Then he advanced to stronger stuff, M-80s. Skip and…
|
133722
|
Defenestration - the act of throwing someone out of a window.
I went to Prague recently to visit my family’s castle, which is called Krivoklat. I’m not even going to attempt to explain to you how to pronounce that. It’s outside Prague, about an hour t
|
133731
|
There is something preposterous /
about existing in a universe so vast: /
Such a big playground for such tiny children, /
|
133752
|
...the completeness of pleasure tantamount to the end of all process...
|
133711
|
He’d've been up there belting out the hymns then bickering with the vicar after.
|
133700
|
"It all began with a painting," I said. "Mostly blue. Acrylic. Naturalistic in a modern sense. She was stylized but recognizable, and her breasts were exposed. Everyone could see her disordered skirt. The painter was a fan of Herrick.
|
133764
|
Cold smoke from the crater
Breathes on our eyelashes;
The abysmal emptiness held
Its breath just once.
|
133741
|
She felt like she was turning into someone else, someone who appeared normal. She would be inundated with everyone else's ideas, morphing into an insipid lemming, smiling and bantering about mindless things. She wouldn't even care she had changed...
|
133741
|
We call this game the end of the world...
|
133721
|
A meaningful conversation Subdued the huge Toys “R” Us question mark Standing sun-bleached and sprinkler-dirtied In our flowerbed On the patio Explode your fanny pack, A clinking most dangerous The Mysterious: Its …
|
133722
|
we hover black as carrion birds with a glut empty need seems to me she's fell as thee and knows exactly where we posture anxiously spitting falsehoods on cue twittering like snipes cause there's nothing left to do she might have spent her whole life just
|
133653
|
And there on the street
Were a bunch of frantic pigeons
Picking over some discarded
Chicken bones
I mean they were really
Going to town on them
You know, frantic
Like there was no tomorrow
And then I saw it
A real sign of progress
|
