1267 9 6
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Captain Nemo never died./
He cruises all the seven seas/
below the waves in Nautilus 2,
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126700
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Once upon a mind-flight
Leary with the tripping became weary
Of the psychedelic travel
Felt the universe unravel
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126721
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We woke up and we were whirlpools of spilt turquoise oil / with wings for flying
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126732
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And then I heard
“Yea, for I have seen the Father
The Son, and the Holy Toast”
Okay now, something up was weird
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126700
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they could be barefoot bastard children
for somebody else to clothe
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126742
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That morning in the driving rain a sequence of automobiles appeared on the streets in the region with headlights in the form of television monitors
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126682
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I’d met this crowd of drunken poets from San Francisco
Even though this was smack dab in the middle of winter
Smack dab in the middle of the flattened Illinois plains
Why they all left San Francisco I’ll never completely understand
But there we we
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126611
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Trenches coated with man-gruel laced the earth.
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126622
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On the days I wasn’t there, my insides felt like paper-mâché.
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126600
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It was a beautiful spring day and Jeremy was bursting with joy at being alive.
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126620
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One Private View, four couples, not all of whom are adulterous.
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126611
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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…
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1266126
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I could have a minor stroke.
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126611
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"I see how little kids might find you creepy," she says between red velvet bites...
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126632
|
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…
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126665
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With whatever else physicists may learn . . . perhaps they will begin to see that the connections between the physical world and non-physical domains of existence have an explanatory power which has only barely been considered.
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126600
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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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126611
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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.
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126600
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. . . he's of mixed race. Along with European blood, he's got Mexican Indian and African blood. Here's the irony. He don't look nothing like a white European man but he thinks like one.
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126600
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1266129
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Where the Story LiesEverybody wants to knowwhere the story lies. Does itlie in childhood? Does it liein old age? Does it lie in anangry outburst or a stingingrebuke? Does it lie in a momentof compassion or in the recognitionof calloused selfishness? Bruisedlove or…
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1265118
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youthful pin oaks grant solemn attention to the aluminum gurney
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126554
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126520
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Time is a form of sandwich. Each component of the sandwich is nestled between night and day, which enclose it like slices of bread. There are minutes, hours, and seconds. Seconds are tiny, like sesame seeds. Minutes are a little larger. Think of them as p
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126586
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126543
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The way I figure it, mom wasn't worth a shit. I'd cry when she hit me but she'd just keep pounding. When I was seven, she burned a hole in my back. It happened one day at the fair. We were walking around. She didn't have any money so all we could do was walk. I had…
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126400
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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…
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126411
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I am naked in an upright glass box with water running through my hair and over my skin. I am in there when the old man who invited himself into our house for six long months (because no one had the nerve to tell him to leave) opens a door and stands…
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126431
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I hope my blonde down still beats in your heart, and the black crescent curved under, you will remember, and I would move toward your window where my own heart lay in a dish, with the thick valley lifting.
Remember, I crossed and uncrossed my legs f
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126410
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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…
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