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our cogs
winding
and whirring
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128396
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The world can still be viewed as a honey drop of sparkling rain, but not all washed up tears can be revealed as such. The stories swirling inside are constantly shifting their own gears, searching for the lost highway, and sometimes…
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128333
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Jo was tailored, Amy was frivolous with ribbons and bows, Meg was plain and sensible; and Beth, who was ill and had no costume changes, wore the same nightgown throughout the dress-up session.
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12821310
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I'll see her this fall, a redhead in camo
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128220
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He sat behind her in Honors English, each day studying everything about her.......
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128253
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POETRY IS DEGENERACY / IS A DISGUSTING HABIT
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128220
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A minute later, a shadow appeared across the left-hand page of the book.
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128265
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128222
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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,…
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128230
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I turn the corner and come face to face with Ed, who's stark naked at the kitchen sink. He chugs a glass of hot tap water from a measuring cup and belches loudly. “Good morning,” he says, as he pisses in the sink. “I drink 6 cups of hot tap…
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1282157
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...he had that same grin, better than a racy French picture.
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128241
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This time is different. The dream doesn’t continue with endless walking.
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128200
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After all, if she could get through World War II with no more than a couple of letters and numbers on her arm, she could, sure as hell, get through this.
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128277
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She rubs her head into mine...
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128222
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“It's not him,” Kelly says. “I think it might be,” says her Mom. The three of us are sitting on the long sofa facing the wall which is one …
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128210
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Something is clearly wrong with them and we're supposed to socialize them.
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128211
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Next morning the thought crosses my mind of snapping Mom’s neck, making sure she’s dead, and then running down to the sea to drown myself.
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128253
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His eyes begin to glisten like hot green wax pooling around the
wick
of a
pretty little candle.
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128222
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for Tracy ThornYou don't need a song about fixed stars, you needa reason to be glad stars are here. Themoon's always been around, but not always like the friend you want,until now. Don't throw it all away becauseyou are too sad to care. You've come into your own. Allthings…
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128200
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Some friends of mine took him for a ride out to Broad Channel, you know that enclave of crazies that live in houses on stilts on the island in Jamaica Bay on Cross Bay Boulevard. He might find that when the tide comes in, the water might be a little deepe
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128250
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Bitter the sun when it is in Hades
High fans meaning nothing keep the heat down
but the nitre keeps burning
So glows the gloss and high sheen on the skin
Foreheads exhibit thought
though the eyes are crossed
and at night, butterflies i
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128200
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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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128122
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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
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128123
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The weather, mid-sixties now,
will take its toll on
this singular voice.
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128100
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"Did you see any action?" I ask, hoping for a story. He points to a scar ripping through the chevron on his left arm but says nothing.
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128100
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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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128166
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They shoot up through the soles of their feet
once the veins in their arms are all used up.
They shoot up in their necks
like the cows on the African Savannah
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128100
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The glamour of living in the Rebuilt Engine Capital of the World is meaningless to the young boys who roam its crowded streets after school, desperately looking for something to take their minds off their homework.
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128155
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The television was playing reruns of Mr. Ed, but it was hard to hear because of the flock of birds in the palm tree. I’d sometimes imagined the birds coming through the window, a swarming of pink cotton mouths, mawing everything in sight.
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128121
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Tucker walked the long and lonely stretch of highway in front of him. The loneliness didn't matter; he had his own way of handling that feeling. The walking, however, was wearing away at his mind. How…
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