1267 8 5
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I was so high on the not knowing, I thought, you will love me for my confusion. And so I allowed myself to reach further inward than either of us felt comfortable. I imagined a delicious vanilla pudding at the core of my exploration, sweet and satisfying enough for me to…
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126742
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Im in bed.
Bed.
I look at the word bed written on the screen.
Bed.
It looks like bad but not quite.
Bed-Bad.
Bad-Bed.
I have a bad bed. Lets say my bed is bad.
It is a bed to the extent that it is bad. It is not good, it is bad. It is a bad bed.
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126663
|
Memory is unreliable, of course-/
re-coloring savored scenes-/
paler here, more saturated there-
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126620
|
Angelo stood to the side and lit a cigarette.
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126622
|
On the days I wasn’t there, my insides felt like paper-mâché.
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126642
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After it is over, I go out into the world, to the café. The flower sellers are setting up their booth outside the glass doors. Classical guitar over the speakers. A soft rain falling. Heads bowed, reading the news. Coffee, croissants, cappuccino. This g
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126622
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Defenestration - the act of throwing someone out of a window.
I went to Prague recently to visit my family’s castle, which is called Krivoklat. I’m not even going to attempt to explain to you how to pronounce that. It’s outside Prague, about an hour t
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126610
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There's one graveyard for the part-timers and another for the full-timers. Ours is a little nicer, but we're still all going to hell. Do you remember St. Petersburg? No, you're memory's not that good.
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126611
|
god's seed is asleep in the carseat
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126622
|
Momma wakes us up early while Daddy's still asleep, pulls out white poster boards, markers from the closet, and together, we draw babies...
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126621
|
There was a time when I washed my dishes with a stray cat who spoke French. I won't go into all the details of what led the bilingual feline into my kitchen, or how he came to take the plunge into an abyss of soap and grease, cheese-encrusted plates, and…
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126650
|
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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126675
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One day, Dasha confessed to Igor that she had an incurable illness: Purple emptiness.
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126521
|
Ben left the airport and headed toward downtown Nice, his stomach was in a knot.
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126587
|
Even among the thousands of black cats/
in the world, though, he would nonetheless/
be my favorite with those impurities of light brown tufts
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126530
|
A kind of sucking darkness into
A kind of noir celebration of despair
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126544
|
I will always remember that
picture of you in your
bright blue summer dress,
with your arms spread out
against a wooden fence in
Central Park.
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126544
|
They pull up to the curbside and he jumps out
to shake the hands in that familiar men’s
grasp/shake they do when saluting each other.
If that isn’t his daughter it should be, the one
sitting in his car, with her door wide open.
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126542
|
Most of the deer around here have a higher IQ than the hunters.
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126564
|
It was an autumn day, late in the afternoon, a Tuesday, when the last murderer died. There was no official announcement. Indeed, she and her crime had been forgotten. Pancreatitis, her cause of death. Quite treatable, the cancer. Nothing could be done for the gene that…
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126521
|
The Fat Man took a sip of whiskey, then replaced his glass on the table next to his fedora. …
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1265126
|
Agamemnon and Menelaus were/
complete creeps. Achilles was//
a pompous piece of shit.
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126522
|
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.
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126400
|
They are sea scallops wrapped in bacon, grilled with butter and lemon and plated in heavy seasoned cream sauce and served with apricot chutney.
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126433
|
Well, hello
hunger: what a sweet surprise.
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126443
|
I didn't know what to do, really, but I had to do something. After all there was no one left to be the real bona fide hero to this story, except for me, the guy who wasn't any kind of a hero at all. I mean I could hardly move an inch, rolled…
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126441
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I know what to expect because this has happened before. The darkness, the stench of an unlit match, The leathery sound of old wings flapping and finally that voice made up of feces and dust, ancient and terrible suggesting depravity and painful deaths t
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126400
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an island hidden in the sound holds treasure
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126400
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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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126433
|
Getting up and reading his poem
The stuffy poet sitting back down
On the leather couch, which creaks under his weight
After adjusting his narrow tie from the 1980’s
The stuffy poet clearing his throat, twice,
During an enemy’s reading
The s
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