1187 5 4
|
I have constructed this emotion with tinfoil and stilts. I wear the mask of a typewriter. I have roots in Minnesota. I have a glass hat and a junkyard monstrosity pregnant with parables.
|
118721
|
Listening for a chain saw with one ear and to Todd and the trooper with the other, I’m trying to hustle up and finish my business - sweating in my coat and sweatshirt - and I think this: not so silly now, is it, this invisible or being able to fly choice?
|
118700
|
What can I say about the Internet It's one of the best inventions since the TV set It's a place you can do research and shop A place where you can sell everything from shoes to stock You can go to rooms and chat And meet some nice people or some that seem…
|
118610
|
Trees gaining maturity that waited in the sun, in the bursting mornings and long afternoons, became restless now in new night textures. Sometimes the wind that came before the storm seemed to be intelligent, and follow some unseen but labyrinthine pathway. But now it…
|
1186158
|
I haven't felt my soul leave my body
|
118631
|
The waitress appears and Fred gives her a big smile and th3 once over. It's no wonder he's had so many women in his life while I've . . . uh . . . read a lot of books.
|
118633
|
He chose her for the way she could, Eyes closed, nose to the air, Find her way North. North was where the wind stopped And held them in its grip, safe. Broken. He chose her for the way, fur against Her collar, she could coax seal…
|
118622
|
the impression I had gotten of him was that he was fifty percent yuppie and fifty percent drug dealer from Marin.
|
118655
|
|
118612
|
I dig with no light to guide the aim of my shovel but the stars peeking through the trees which are fuller now then when you went away.
|
1186129
|
you shimmered me with attention
|
118690
|
|
118644
|
The scarred heart pumps its viscous blood.
|
118511
|
It sits there, watching, waiting, multiple cycles over.
|
118500
|
|
118520
|
Dancing at the pavilion leads to sex. A nectar builds up around the heart (damp curl of hair at the neck.) The heart does not know what it cannot have. It is dumb and does not know. But I, for one, hope that it never learns and becomes numb.
There i
|
118510
|
Before they ever spoke, Linda and Meg had sat next to each other in the cramped lecture hall for three weeks, their thighs touching, while Dr. Laurens showed slides of ancient Japanese art. Meg's eyes never left the screen, but Linda glanced at her as often as she…
|
118500
|
A spot in space observes all this, with its eyes arching over on their stalks. The observation point dangles one eye above the other, turning the roundness of them suddenly.
|
118540
|
I've been a fan of hagiography—the lives of the saints—since first grade when Claude Dunham and I were asked to represent St. Stephen and St. Sebastian, two martyrs of the early church, in a tableau vivant of bored boys.
|
118533
|
irretrievably we tell ourselves stories
irretrievably as beaded water slides off our skin
|
118500
|
They do exist though. They have for centuries and when one comes forward and is vocal and authentic, it pays to give a listen. How to know if they are authentic? They charge nothing, they fear nothing and they merely exist in the world, just as you and I
|
118551
|
He sneezed Hit the wrong buttonDidn't mean to kill him,but he didHeld onto me then, cryingand could not stopI feel so awful, he sobbedHe was asking for mercyAnd I meant to say, "yes,I will spare your life,"but I hit the kill buttoninsteadIt was an accidentHoney, it's just a…
|
118511
|
Dreams were all she ever had, all that ever comforted her. Diana. But then there was Rachel. And Diana forgot about her dreams, because there was nothing but Rachel. At first it was nothing but innocent phone calls, plans to meet up for coffee…
|
118510
|
A stroll along the golf course rim reveals Polo-logoed litter. Could this be what they mean by white trash?
|
118544
|
The world's anxious fire breathing mob still wants in, but they don't know what in the smoke they are looking for. They aren't really thinking in that intellectual direction. All these wonderful, friendly books you see do not hold the answer or…
|
1185126
|
it's all a bit like the quiet steam
drifting to nowhere off my microwaved
hot coffee in the sunflower mug
|
118511
|
|
118485
|
I do that now. And I shiver. My mom's eyes don't seem to have any expression. They look lifeless. Her eyes look...
dead.
Stop it, Alison, I tell myself. You're being stupid.
|
1184147
|
The will to make/
remains
|
118400
|
[I STILL CAN'T GET THE "CENTERING" FORMAT THINGEE — WHAT? "JUSTIFY CENTER"? THAT'S WHAT IT'S CALLED? YEAH — THAT ONE! TO WORK! WHAT THE—]
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