1189 4 2
|
Concrete coffeecake
drumbeat gyrate
Andy Rooney ran a meter.
|
118930
|
A kind of sucking darkness into
A kind of noir celebration of despair
|
118967
|
We are the miserable, annoyed, dismayed sick. We slouch on black naugahyde chairs too pathetic to reach for magazines. The computer is down the young receptionist has explained to each of us in young, florid style, complete with “I…
|
118940
|
We construct what we want, from what has failed in the past. We thought this worked. The picture was buzzing for me and I tried to hold on. I went blindly forward.
|
118900
|
My writing career began with sitting around the tree eating Christmas presents.
|
118952
|
there was the place where the large turtles had their eggs, and it was always a concern because everyone wanted the new turtles to make it back to the sea but the electric lights of high wattage along with sounds from the roadways beyond were in one…
|
1189107
|
|
118976
|
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…
|
118997
|
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.
|
118810
|
When I was a boy and just out of seminary school, I went to a Doors concert and heard Jim Morrison sing his song ‘Soft Parade’ – it changed my life.
|
118822
|
Is this a tenure track position?
|
118820
|
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.
|
118810
|
The cab split the thread of oncoming traffic into water barrels and telephone poles.
|
118898
|
After you lost sight in your left eye, mom made me go on the road with you that last summer to help you see.
|
118811
|
As clever as clean bed sheets
|
118863
|
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.
|
118844
|
I heard the patron yelling,
“Hey, man! That’s my cappuccino!”
when the young female snatched it and got away.
But the police cornered her a few blocks away,
licking the last bits of foam off her wiley whiskers.
That’s how they knew they had
|
118820
|
It's definitely not her pretty face that made him smile so quirkily when she returned in the evening.
|
118894
|
The woman took a small note card from her purse and wrote on it. She then stood, handed the card to the doctor, and said, “Call me.”
|
118800
|
“Honorable condominium association members,” the leader begins. “I apologize for not having a PowerPoint slide show tonight, but me and my muchachos travel light.”
|
118833
|
or.
Have you ever contemplated smashing someone's face to The Stooges' Fun House?
|
118822
|
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
|
118796
|
On a Saturday I flew from murky air. My wings grown weak, I stole away from plundered nest, casual stings, and skillful barbs. In family's fold, I perch.
|
118754
|
|
118710
|
Duffy struck an adversarial tone from the outset, offering up a first poem about improper expenses submitted by members of Parliament that ruffled feathers across party lines.
|
118730
|
It began with the waffles, well first there were the potholders, but really the problem was the waffles. I don't even think she knew she was making waffles; much less that she had lost her potholders in the trash can the day before. But nonetheless the real issue here was…
|
118700
|
|
118722
|
Pictures of war correspondents from The Tribune, and colonial photographs in a fruit crate
|
118700
|
He'd always considered it his bus.
|
118787
|
The machines of her perception/
tuned themselves to frequencies//
that peeled her skin and fatty tissue
|
