1181 3 2
|
The last of the Kazan Tatar Khans. Each dome represents a severed head.
|
118162
|
Why go outside where the gutters /
are fraudulent and clogged with popularity?
|
118120
|
With some of these guys it was like propping a kid on a training-wheel bike, then steering the kid down the street til he figured out what to do next. Tricks would come into the bar. Roanne had a smile for all but the dregs…
|
118144
|
But in 1991 Carmen developed a heroin habit and was forced to sell her powder blue, convertible Mercedes 500SL...
|
118054
|
|
118021
|
There’s an account of roasting inward, holding myself like a rock inflamed, my inward joy rotting my veins. How was I supposed to go on loving anything after you? Like a pigeon hated at home, awaiting your passionate kisses? Knowing how your classical k
|
118000
|
gods aren’t going to help you son
|
118011
|
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…
|
118033
|
Well, hello
hunger: what a sweet surprise.
|
118021
|
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
|
118022
|
* — Eligibility conditions apply, no purchase necessary.
|
1180108
|
|
118030
|
A kind of sucking darkness into
A kind of noir celebration of despair
|
118000
|
It was then an angel was sent to provide assistance and guidance. After the first time, with the radio show, the woman could almost feel her presence. When she did not know what to do, or needed help or to encourage others, when her own will and words wer
|
118020
|
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.
|
118040
|
"Well, you certainly can't be marrying him then .. "
|
118044
|
They were once a crown,of some living stag -- not quite old,not quite young: now bone. Something at the cusp of its age. Here they stand, given by a loved friendon a place in my home; smelling, whenI get very close, of time. They are shaped like small…
|
118010
|
The cab split the thread of oncoming traffic into water barrels and telephone poles.
|
118021
|
It was that awkward time when one didn’t know if the night’s lover wanted to see you again.
|
118000
|
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.
|
118033
|
|
118000
|
My writing career began with sitting around the tree eating Christmas presents.
|
1180107
|
|
118031
|
And the urban sprawl doesn’t hesitate. All around me, I taste the aftermath of bricks, dust and dirt, freshly laid concrete slabs.
|
118010
|
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…
|
118075
|
The old neighborhood, long paling in the shadow of greater Los Angeles, was reduced to two blocks in length and occupied only one side of Figueroa. It was the crumbling bastian of homes whose architecture remembered yet street-car bells clanging, watermelon farms and…
|
118076
|
I fancy myself a spy. Unofficial official of the H. O. A. Super secret free agent agent of the Glenwood Homeowner's Association. Even the board is unaware of the work I do in their name, without the faintest utterance of their name. Only the highest of the high, the…
|
118033
|
or.
Have you ever contemplated smashing someone's face to The Stooges' Fun House?
|
118022
|
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
|
117921
|
Butter me up, moon lover. Remember, I was once your warm and hot goddess of flowers, washed to shore with the others you may have forgotten. Now the issue of the earth gets nearer, and we can see each other once again, if only in our dreams.
Just be
|
