1214 0 0
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I sold my ego to pay a parking ticket. And then I wrote 77 words about mental health.
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121496
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" No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing."--T.S. EliotI think, okay now I know, the poem's starting to wear off. But I'm alive, at least…
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121421
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Gringovitch sat on the big leather chair in Olivia’s suite. Before him on a coffee table were the nude sketches he’d made of her earlier that day.
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121411
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My kid chased the umpire back to his crappy Honda Civic and flipped it over–at the age of 10! That's what steroids can do for you.
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121400
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Last time I saw the American Dream was Tuesday, down at the Unemployment Office. He was looking pretty worn out, as if being unemployed for over a year was finally getting to him.
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121498
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After you lost sight in your left eye, mom made me go on the road with you that last summer to help you see.
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121422
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“Miss Brown had spent the morning (was it just this morning? Or another?) purchasing parsnips and leafy green vegetables from the local grocers, when she was overcome by a wave of nausea. The world went black and she awoke in a windowless, doorless room.
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121443
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Darkness dangles like bats in a mouth of cabbage. I call this necromancy. But it doesn’t work. No dead people appear. Just Bob Dylan on a horse.
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121484
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121400
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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.
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121422
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I caught a fragment of a charged argument as I passed them. The young man said, “Well, I am talking about love.” And the young woman with equal volume checkmated with, “Well, I am talking about money.” Though their lives were none of my business, this exc
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121331
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I see you’re wearing your tablecloth top again
your tablecloth dress to impress me
and distress me with all your tablecloth positions
for your luncheons on the grass
with all your famous friends
who found you on your ass
Yes we can
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121331
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Last night, but not really night, I woke up to a huge clattering crash! I reached for my weapon (wouldn't you like to know) and jumped out of soft and cozy, holding myself in my best "I'm-not-afraid-of-you" stance.
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121365
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They got slices of greasy salami
On top of round mini carrots, celery
Pepperoncini, slices of sweet pickles
They got cinder block walls
A Tiki Bar with glasses hanging
Upside down from the stemware over the bar
They got wood paneling, cottag
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121310
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They pumped him full of electricity and waited.
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121322
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Pictures of war correspondents from The Tribune, and colonial photographs in a fruit crate
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121300
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He'd always considered it his bus.
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121310
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She was wearing a black tank top and jeans, standing in the shade. Why was she there again? The camera hanging around her wrist answered her question. Right, he had called. He had asked if she could take picture for him and his…
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121310
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There was a thing she liked to do in the pool—after running and sweating—and that was to exhale as much air as she could stand, then hold her nose and sink to the bottom and just look up at the surface of the water, the way the sun hit it, the way the liq
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121362
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Why go outside where the gutters /
are fraudulent and clogged with popularity?
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121322
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He said, “It was only after I broke my neck and even like maybe a year later that I really started realizing that I had something to say.”
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121211
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my soul is black and it's deep like heartbreak and heavy as stone and as thick as ink and it is pressing on top of me like last nights one night stand like dead weight so that I can't lift my arms or spread my legs it feels like I am walking through mud but it's…
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121240
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"At a bare minimum it deserves to be a major cult hit."
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121200
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121200
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Anyway, without Mr. Little, my life would have been much more difficult after my father was arrested. It was difficult enough as it was. Mr. Little was my personal hero at a time in my life when I had very few people that I could look up to. The funny
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121263
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We call it the alley of the shadows, the low sunless concavity of earth between the stalks, the acrid scent of the ripened arrow-points.
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121210
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There's one graveyard for the part-timers and another for the full-timers. Ours is a little nicer, but we're still all going to hell. Do you remember St. Petersburg? No, you're memory's not that good.
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121222
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I lounged in my captain’s chair growing a beard. Things continued in this way and then the president called.He wanted to know the meaning of virtue.
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121200
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Coupling—why did I say that? Who says that? I mean the clacking together of bones, the willful splitting of fine and tender skin.
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121222
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I wonder what it would be like to dog-paddle in the middle of the ocean.
I wonder how Jean Auguste Ingres got the flesh tones for “Odalisque.”
I wonder if bees have dreams.
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