1303 0 0
|
an island hidden in the sound holds treasure
|
130330
|
I guess you felt more comfortable holding your Moby Dick
|
1303128
|
My name's Barbara and don't call me Barbie if you want to be my friend.
|
1303119
|
|
130365
|
I texted a wickety-split, tax-declaring New York-based international escort, a moonlighting, all-pro Kit, whose day job on Wall Street yields no bonus.
|
130300
|
A few months back, Bob Delaney, the old Black Hole’s man with the plan (and more importantly, the check-signing authority), hired a young new guy named Gary — who had the unfortunate last name, Indiana — as a geriatric nurse at Bufordsville Retirement Com
|
130321
|
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.
|
130300
|
"It all began with a painting," I said. "Mostly blue. Acrylic. Naturalistic in a modern sense. She was stylized but recognizable, and her breasts were exposed. Everyone could see her disordered skirt. The painter was a fan of Herrick.
|
130321
|
The Fat Man took a sip of whiskey, then replaced his glass on the table next to his fedora. …
|
130322
|
I wonder what it would be like to dog-paddle in the middle of the ocean.
I wonder how Jean Auguste Ingres got the flesh tones for “Odalisque.”
I wonder if bees have dreams.
|
130320
|
Speaking in tongues
untranslatable,
they move in experimental spacesuits,
uneasy in the other's gravity.
(To say nothing of the difficulty of dancing.)
|
130310
|
Her questions apparently had their desired effect.
|
130275
|
of anything if that's the way you feel your love must go down, off its last nut before the big victimizing crash of the end of days and flowers. But watch out for thosethorn bushes that grow from forgotten holes in the ground.…
|
130231
|
This was not a good sign, comforting gestures from strangers were bad omens.
|
130220
|
The alcohol is on my mind, on my mind, on my mind
|
130296
|
|
130253
|
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
|
130255
|
then something like a shark gnawing on a harpsichord. Her drum kit apparently is an entire laundromat. A pocketful of marbles spilling in rivulets, down a set of narrow linoleum steps, merrily as two warblers splashing in a birdbath. several octaves below
|
1302119
|
First have a good window seat
|
130263
|
The Bearcat 101 was a police scanner popular with a certain type during in the 1970s. Daddy was that exact type. I found the Bearcat in his apartment after he passed. His illness was a common one, the process gradual, implacable. No red and blue…
|
130200
|
After going to the garage and moving at least 4000 boxes of junk we found the coat rack. We wrestled it up the stairs to my room. I wasn't much help, but Dad was cool about it. I think he was just happy I liked the suit.
|
130221
|
We are nerds. We are Legion. We do not forgive. We do not forget. Expect us bitch.
|
130286
|
“Outis of Utopia” my found name! / I'll inscribe it soon as the tide goes out.
|
130220
|
During the night and in the fog of halfsleep Ben shifted and felt the weight of Miranda gone from him, the bed empty. In the quiet of the house he thought he heard a footstep and the soft shutting of a door, and as his eyes searched the dark he…
|
130211
|
He is sleek with hearts and I see a different name etched onto each one.
|
130230
|
Goodbye comes in stages. At first you recognize that you will “miss” someone when they are gone. Then you have to accept the fact that they are leaving. And finally accept the fact that they are gone; and not particularly in that order. If only it
|
130242
|
Up to the loft we went, shedding clothes all the way. No one is home, but the place smells like the fresh cookies my mom had made before she left. It's dark and my lips hit his…
|
130200
|
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.
|
130100
|
Love is easy when all is going well, but it is one of life’s profound, humbling lessons that few people love you enough to wipe your butt.
|
1301159
|
Dread and drudgery sour each day
|
