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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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127700
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TromboneA trombone blusters his waythrough the bright restaurant,demanding to see the chef.He's furious;the prawns have given himsplitnotes.ViolinsFour violins wait for a bus in the rain.The pervading atmosphere of melancholymakes their plaintive scrapings redundant.AxeThe…
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I saw blood. The walls of the bar were completely covered in red shag carpeting. Had I been thrown back in time to the Seventies? It felt as if I had entered Hell itself. No, this was not Hell. This was the Aryan-Brotherhood's version of the movie Shaft. I…
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The boy in the elevator with round glasses, /
who carried a newly-purchased broom, /
was tall and burdened with clothes
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She excelled at plowing forward. He excelled at staying in one place. Eventually the distances got too great and she put an ocean between them.
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127796
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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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Paul and Mary Jo lived in an apartment at the top of a long, dark flight of stairs that were so high, I remember as if it were yesterday thinking, the night she pushed him down the stairs, he would surely be dead by the time he hit the landing at the…
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127760
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and still every time I walked up there - so it can't be the cycling - I was nervous I would do it wrong
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127765
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We drank beer and played loose pool, attracted two fun girls, one Jamaican, the other dirty blonde, both of whom seemed interested in only one of the four of us.
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The woman was dancing, holding her bottle in the air as she slowly turned around, blocking the way to the exit. “I asked Miss Pansy Blossom if she would wing a reel,” she sang.
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When I was alive with you inside me, I discovered briefly and finally how to fly. Up near your ceiling as I floated around the universe with widening eyes, like a butterfly, like a god, like a bird with golden hair at my neck, like a speckled moth infla
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They borrowed birds from the trees
And forced me to sing along with them
You could say they made my heart burn
But we all know some of that was fake
It was a direct route
From sleep walking
To sleep shopping
To this
I guess I lived a
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127610
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Soul? Who's got soul? That nothingness that holds us together, between the spaces, in and out of the cracks in our minds and bodies. The soul weighs something, you know. It's been proven. Some guy did a study where he weighed people before and after death, and they weighed…
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a thinking man's bird
high above
coated with scent
of life
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127600
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Antique pens better allow an old soul to express what needs expressing.
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127633
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Once I get through this I'm going to start: daily yoga stretches; walking the dog all the way to the waterfall every morning; tossing out, unread, Saturday's ads so I don't think about going into Walmart to buy Stack-A-Shelves (assembly required). Hey, even…
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Every year I make New Year's resolutions and every year I break them. So this year, I'm trying something different -- resolutions for other people. Hey world -- here are the changes I'd like to see YOU make in 2014(1) Cell phone owners: No more blathering on your cell in…
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127611
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never have i wanted/ to stay in one place long,/ flight inspired to escape/ existential ennui--
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12761212
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A thin line separated her lips, like something sketched with a pencil.
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—Christ all mighty, said Ben to himself as he watched Isabella and Leona enter the bank. Those are some extraordinary examples of female flesh.
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Sunday Night She wasn't hungry, hadn't eaten for days, wouldn't even touch the food I took time off my fuckin' schedule to bring her myself. I walked through puddles of dirt and dog shit, I did. By the time she opened the door after four knocks, I was drenched,…
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Dread and drudgery sour each day
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A kind of sucking darkness into
A kind of noir celebration of despair
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For some reason in my daydream he would use the formal “ma'am” to approach me, despite the fact that we were in a swarm of sweaty grunting men in the basement that smelled like feral animal feces and jock straps.
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Listening too much to the night, with its whistles, bright lights of luminescent bursts like leaves on fire, or the raised ear of a cow in the purple mist, or the curled tail of a pig foraging in the night.
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127510
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Something is clearly wrong with them and we're supposed to socialize them.
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Minimalist/realist short-story writer Raymond Carver was fired from his job as an editor of science textbooks because of his inappropriate writing style.
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