1256 1 0
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The lace fell through the fingers, wrinkled and nimble they had become too used to avoiding the finite objects in life which needed attention. The white cotton sat loosely on her shoulders, the collar exposed the skin which had become dry and her shoulder
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125663
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in that time people had gone away and i waited in the inside and looked out on balconies. the ending of the dusk was coming and the details of the railings and brick, the tree branches holding purple plums, the stacked railway ties and a thousand other details became…
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125610
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“A story shines brighter through a tear in your eye,” You say
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125643
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Your father's remembrance and memorial would be inappropriate for me to attend. never mind the truth the searing…
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125600
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In the tumbled-down now there's too much material, culled from pretty boys that don't notice me and tattooed ones that do, and I'm certain there's at least one dreamer soaking eyes into me who knows all the twisted lyrics invoking pretty little horses.
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125553
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POETRY IS DEGENERACY / IS A DISGUSTING HABIT
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125500
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gods aren’t going to help you son
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125511
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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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125542
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The cell was crowded, barely enough room to swing a cat.
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125522
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Is this a tenure track position?
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125500
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Vikki respond, "Say big guy, you eat pussy?"
The Mohawk flustered.
"Uh!?...Yeah...sure."
Vikki snickered, "Great. We got something in common. So do I."
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1255158
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If I had slept a little longer, I/
would not have seen this rarity at all.
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125511
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Jack Krackenthorpe, Director-General of MI-5, sat alone drinking tea in Lee Ho Fook, a third-rate Chinese restaurant in Soho a mile from his Curzon Street office.
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125552
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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…
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125486
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my time there was not one afternoon not / one river not one tunnel not one falling
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125452
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Fingers scrabble idly at pocket seams, forage between teeth, grasp for tepid cups, patter a drumbeat on knees.
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125421
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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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125400
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Do you know what it is to crave something? Of course you do. But this was different. This was beyond craving.
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125400
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Last week I heard that there is a new horror movie out about Abe Lincoln, with the plot of the film involving the tallest of presidents hunting down vampire bats with his axe while suspending habeas corpus, writing lame speeches about the freedom of man, restoring the…
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125430
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A kind of sucking darkness into
A kind of noir celebration of despair
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125400
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Sally knows the situation: if your name's on the list you can't come in. If they try to walk past her, swipe their card on the electronic barrier's scanner, instead of a short benevolent bleep and the gate sliding open, it will fail. The hapless individua
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125464
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He peels the garlic while I stir the lentils; he chops the cilantro while I peel kale leaf from stem. Also, the rings. Also, no one is going anywhere.
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1254199
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A bedridden ward of the state,/
warehoused in a nursing home,/
unable to drive to the liquor store/
for whiskey and cigarettes,
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125400
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We walk with our heads down, maybe 15 of us, moving under a sun that has grown to encompass everything. Everything is in hues of orange and red like a bloody eyeball on fire.
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1254129
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The gulls/
have somehow mastered the art//
of avoiding the nooses of six-pack/
plastic rings
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1253136
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I tell people that we leave out food for the creatures to appease the skunk gods.
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125310
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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.
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125396
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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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125300
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“This horrible street. I hate this neighborhood,” she cursed.
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125321
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The first intimation that something was afoul was when his computer crashed.
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