1227 6 5
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If you want to be a writer, just write stuff.
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122700
|
Tread acres and acres of aches
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122700
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bursting girl there is no moon
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122753
|
Hey Sledge!
Yo.
Did you know Socrates hated the idea of writing thoughts down? He said it weakened the memory…made us lazy.
Say wha?
That's why he never wrote a book. The only way we know about him is through his student Plato's writing. St
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122733
|
I am from slow diagnoses, impatience and parents skeptical of New York City doctors. I am from tall buildings, yogurt shakes, and envy for my brother's asthma machine. I am from here, stay away from there, don't get too close, be careful at the edge, the…
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122796
|
Captain Nemo never died./
He cruises all the seven seas/
below the waves in Nautilus 2,
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122710
|
Handsome are the houses,effigies in synthetic stucco: prosperity divinedbehind parted walls. Behold the ersatz simplicityof the residential subdivision, contrived construction inline and line and line. …
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122710
|
Mr. Townsend is a normal guy. He's been on auto pilot a while. When he finally snaps out of it, he's surprised at what he finds.
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122700
|
Rains came again and wore away at their flesh, revealing bone as white and sharp as sharks’ teeth.
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122700
|
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...
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122721
|
I know what that coast was like, where you went. A coarse country filled with malodorous women that sang from the shores. Groups of nine stripped to the waist. Some with braids hanging down their back. Garden beauties. Visual porticos, with their floral
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122700
|
Take a flying leap?Mother would never agreeSo away from the campground we sneakTo show the boy where I was a boySummer day shirtless with swimsuits onOne hundred degrees walking through the treesThe season early with winter runoffWater here still seventy feet deepHoping the…
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122754
|
After all our morals
And ethics of distrust
Have been ripped out
And discussed
There’s still the Meat Lady
At the end of the day
Standing around
in the midst of the crowd
Handing out her meat
In little morsels
on a toothpick
Af
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122722
|
The urban-abused Chevy looked older than its seven years.
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122700
|
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…
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122641
|
She sees her first husband on the bathroom floor, ingrained in the wood.
|
122695
|
I'm staying in swinging all night
Hell not just all night but every night
I can possibly sink my teeth into
|
122612
|
The Sunday sunset slowly simmers the sea.
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122633
|
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…
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122622
|
the impression I had gotten of him was that he was fifty percent yuppie and fifty percent drug dealer from Marin.
|
122640
|
Fire and ice undo me. I am born again, born again through the burning ice and biting flame. Listlessly floating cinder-like on lost cusps of wind that multiply with every with every single with every single breath. Spitfire grail and…
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122600
|
When the village slept, the men came knocking.
|
122674
|
I leave the 29
to go after the 1
|
122600
|
Th heeet frum mye skin on ers wus mehsidge eenuff.
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122632
|
And then I heard
“Yea, for I have seen the Father
The Son, and the Holy Toast”
Okay now, something up was weird
|
122673
|
Sometimes you want to strike out at me. What is stopping you? There is no stopping you. You know I will not retaliate. Gone is all that I will be to you then.
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122665
|
"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…
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122651
|
I change things without notice for himto make sure he's ready for the corporate world. It's no longer our goal to watch cartoonswe must now focus on breakfastthenaction figures. "But Daddy," he says. "I likecartoons." "I know it hurts," I say."But…
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122677
|
I live in a small fishing village where small people fish and others gossip or invent bizarre methods by which to irritate each other. During our weekly power cuts I go outside and cross the street, sitting on the pharmacy steps to watch myself not be at home in the…
|
122585
|
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.
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