87332
|
It had been over three months since he’d left his home and started to walk. He’d kept a journal to begin with, but his book soon ran out of batteries. It was that sort of thing that had irked Neil at the start, but now he’d just let it slide down his back
|
87300
|
"The shipyards of the soul do not exist." The Colussus has always been a colossal waste, and the riddle of Your Father's Identity confounds no one but yourself. What a riddle, what pills! He was known for…
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87300
|
She approached him submissively, face down, eyes hidden by hair that moved with every shift of the current.
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87332
|
Something’s not right. Okie, the elder cat, seems–distrait. Taciturn. Phlegmatic. And those are just leftover vocab words from my son’s senior English class.
|
87341
|
|
87363
|
until i french kiss every atmosphere
my mouth ready to explode
like roman candles
sparking my fingers sparking off the tips
of my sparking fingers
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87300
|
"The Impossible Dream." That time they drove to North Carolina and Ellen threw up and nobody but Dad felt like eating, so Dad stopped at McDonald's and the smell of hamburgers made Ellen throw up again. This time, on Frank.
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87332
|
"Who's that?" Carl asked about the man standing near the fence.
"Says his name is Marty Lopez," Jake replied.
"For real?" Carl moved to one side for a better look.
"I know. He doesn't look like a Lopez," Jake said.
|
87320
|
Her smile was a cliff I stood on, trying to wrangle some kind of hope from the whites of her teeth. I heard the sound of the buzzer from the door on my ward. She stood there, a sickly ash tree, each limb flailing about like she was drowning in my sea of a
|
873104
|
You could have drawn us forth anytime on the beach, harping, begging to be let go from the grasp of your song. I needed you to sing of my neck, with its ropes teeming and filled. You only had to spread me open and loosen the shuddering country, anytime.
|
87354
|
One thing about eating shit:
|
87355
|
Against//
the mysteries and the dark/
it illuminates and shapes
|
87331
|
Well, Bainz' dad didn't kill us for stealing his bomb because one of the drug addicts at my house was a cop. At least he said he was a cop, or knew a cop, or had something to do with the cops. I don't know for sure. I know he didn't look like a cop, at least he …
|
87343
|
We stop laughing when the doctors come in. Don't want to scare them.Ben (car accident, Christmas, gifts all over the road), tries to freak them out though. He'll make a low soundsometimes. One nurse ran so fast she almost wentout the window. Sheryl her name…
|
87333
|
The sun was a dish of burnished courage
|
87297
|
there was no mess she couldn’t manage, / no chaos she couldn’t tame.
|
87220
|
I normally don't photograph well, but today – well, today's different.
|
87211
|
Oh, but we have lost-- such treasured souls, at immeasurable costs. Oh, but we do moan and cry-- such treasured souls, no tangible, useable reasons why. Oh, but we whose hearts do bleed-- such treasured souls, we…
|
87253
|
nevertheless, this crowd had come up with a universal cure for humanity, and regardless of consequences . . .
|
8721717
|
Something about shadows and last time and driving.
|
87263
|
While most spread their time in other occupation, I traveled through books and grew my imagination. I knew endless bliss. I was a book eater. I would just devour books that I loved and slug through those I didn't, just to make myself eat the truths and li
|
87200
|
The paper
in his typewriter
|
87200
|
Azure lowered her head, nearly burying it in the window, watching the helicopter land.
|
87211
|
I should have worn shorts.
|
87262
|
To a desert island I pick a book of crosswords for my one item. It is a desert island. What could be more practical? I awake in the middle of the night, an itch in my throat. I blow my nose. Weird gobbets of blood ring my Kleenex. It drizzles out now, wet here, gelatinous…
|
87220
|
Saturday night in the suburbs west of Boston. As Pancho Sanza and I drift wearily from one upscale restaurant to another, we see an endless parade of husbands whose indifference to their wives borders on cruelty.
|
87211
|
the arc of her invective presumably aimed at the little boy and girl ambling halfway down the block behind her
|
87221
|
[Scumbag scumbag ― fuck you!!! Stop reading this it's my private JOURNAL!!! Thanks. ;) ]
|
87220
|
It's eight fifteen in the morning, my favorite time to call, and a guy named Ernie DeCampo answers the door in his work pants and a t-shirt. “Good morning, Mr.De Campo,” I say. “Do you have any fireworks in your home?” …
|
87211
|
god's seed is asleep in the carseat
|