1250 10 4
|
There’s not enough time because we come back to the things we never learn and forget them.
|
125000
|
It was a beautiful spring day and Jeremy was bursting with joy at being alive.
|
125020
|
One Private View, four couples, not all of whom are adulterous.
|
125012
|
The Sunday sunset slowly simmers the sea.
|
125000
|
|
12501810
|
But if He makes you happy, stands/
as bulwark against the vast, indifferent/
and deadly universe, then cling to Him
|
125000
|
they could be barefoot bastard children
for somebody else to clothe
|
1250107
|
By the time the third car disappeared, Bud had noticed sudden lulls in the breeze, rain microbursts from otherwise blue skies, cold humid calms that trailed him around the junk.
|
125033
|
"..sneezing repeatedly into an obviously saturated cocktail napkin,.."
|
125000
|
|
124900
|
VIII. Towards Affinities, Beyond My love, since I saw you last, since before we reached the chamber, I cannot count the quasars which have passed, but there still gleams Time, Like a memory of a lost event unwitnessed, and this illusion Carried…
|
1249107
|
|
124911
|
She felt the ants crawling across her arms, felt them digging into her flesh. The needle was still attached to her flesh, bruises lined along the stretch of skin. Her body convulsed until she slipped into slumber. The following morning she could no longer continue her self…
|
124932
|
The coach told the player, number 21, to stand in front of the net in order to distract the opposing team's goaltender and to block the view, to 'screen' him as it were. 21 did so, and did it well. There were defensemen that gave him much trouble by hitting his legs and…
|
124910
|
In dreams begin responsibilities--Yeats I'm writing this story to tell you about a mistake, despite the fact that you might find it boring or might consider my writing style onerous or overeager. I begin with…
|
124910
|
The harsh lights of the 7th Ave. Local revealed dark circles that had remained hidden during Vivian’s performance.
|
124921
|
We woke up and we were whirlpools of spilt turquoise oil / with wings for flying
|
124955
|
are speaking clear enough, through their open and bleeding wounds, for you to at least try and understand. Waving their massive arms like living lighthouses, bobbing in and out of the floundering waves, they are splashing out an…
|
124900
|
The woman wrings her hands again and again, reaching up to place one under her chin, then to her cheek as though there is some pending trepidation no one else can see...
|
1249169
|
Unless we see it, probe it,
Name it, star by star, and feel
This awful, tenuous gratitude.
|
124900
|
Marie Poupon-Kennedy wasn’t strangled by one set of hands; there were thirty sets around that long, pale neck.
|
124970
|
Who better to know the wiles of the fox than the vixen herself?
|
124911
|
A Boston company has created a humanoid robot named “Baxter” that performs manufacturing tasks and gets a confused look on its face when it needs something.
|
124933
|
the world’s biggest poser fags
|
124900
|
III. The entire place was dusty and rocky, much different from my home. Pockets of power, heat, had proven to be dangerous and inhospitable, sometimes even volatile. It was not the first sign that I…
|
124965
|
"Time is an ocean, but it ends at the shore. You may not see me tomorrow."--Bob DylanThey're writing poems, but not for me. Guess I'll write one for my own. For nobody that I know now. It's a pretty lonely world for someone who sings, not you, not with…
|
124831
|
What do you do
when a Shirelle asks you
if you’re in the mood to dance?
|
124831
|
Dutton felt thwarted in his literary career, producing only the classic "Here I sit all broken-hearted, paid a nickel to crap and only farted" in a locker room stall at halftime of the 1963 Weedwacker Bowl.
|
124800
|
Everyone wants to feel like the world has lined up against them and any achievement they have been able to attain was done despite the best efforts of everyone who isn't them. That's a given.
But there is one group of people who seem to have a point.
|
124840
|
“This isn’t fair!” I rail to my late wife. “It’s all right for you, why not me?” She never answers me directly. Not in whispers, or with knocks, or even dreams.
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