1901 6 1
|
I am coming to understand how many memories of my father involve him, driving
|
19001312
|
You drink in women's bodies, without reserve. You take a sip at the post office, a gulp at the gym, a teensy taste when we walk together. Tonight you even indulged as we were looking for a parking spot and passed some twenty-somethings, then followed up w
|
1900239
|
"Bit of a shrinkage situation."
|
189931
|
[ETIQUETTE ... DECORUM ... BOUNDARIES ... BAH!]
|
18993526
|
On Friday nights I'm not there.
|
18992215
|
She leaned up on an elbow, smirked and touched his leg. “Want to do it?”
|
18991411
|
“What was the line in the movie Dad?...
|
189911
|
Too late, I feel a bite under my left heel, but before I can look, I blunder into Robert and Paul rolling across the bedroom floor. They knock me over like a bowling pin, and I grab Robert’s hands and try to pull them from around his father’s neck.
|
189932
|
Of course, you're eventually struck by the thought that the house you saw on the hill was not your house and that those children and the dog are purely matter for the strange.
|
18982617
|
I would see her at the gym in the mornings.
|
189722
|
“Nag, nag, nag. This time I’m leaving and I’m not coming back.”
|
189755
|
I used to charm you,
hold you in my hand.
|
189733
|
Eddie Dorsett was a dumb kid. Nobody could dispute it. More than that, Eddie Dorsett was a fat, slothful, whining, shilly-shallying, phlegmatic zero of a kid, the lowest of the third-graders for certain and a prime contender for the lowest of the entire R
|
189783
|
The Parachutist closes his eyes, takes a breath, and then opens them back up again. The earth is very beautiful, and very small from where he is. It is getting larger quickly, which is vaguely alarming.
|
189621
|
At first I thought maybe I was dreaming, or hallucinating from the lack of sleep and a high altitude. I peered out of the small window and thought I saw a man walking stark naked along a path maybe twenty feet from my trailer. He walked briskly into a one
|
189642
|
What was it about women that made them know these kinds of things about one another, about people, the way they came together, the future? Crater thought back to Dresden, the exchange student from Holland. She knew things like that.
|
189652
|
In Honduras they say a prayer that sounds like screaming at the top of your lungs...
|
18951612
|
I still want to kill Allan, because he now is unseen
|
189542
|
Pion's long fingers fly from black to white, white to black, without missing even a measure. The nocturne starts soft.
|
18952012
|
...I pray for the animal souls I have taken -- panther, gazelle, hyena, vulture...
|
18951310
|
With the whole bizarre crowd surrounding us like birds on shit covered cliffs, offering up a bowl full of choppy seas to the many bored and stuffed sky gods, we danced our way into all their hard shell covered hearts as one thing. Still they never knew our hiding …
|
1895137
|
It’s not every day that a girl like me gets greeted with a hairy beast that orgles and spits when excited. Didn’t help none that it only had one eye. Poor little ole bugger.
|
18951613
|
We soft boiled the free range egg, cracked it, and were surprised to find nothing in it.
|
189542
|
My wife’s voice behind me says, “Where did you get that godawful tee shirt?”
|
189495
|
423 days.
The old man still possessed the child-like habit of biting his lower lip when he wrote. The thick skin as dry as pork rind. He recorded the days without rain in a spare, makeshift almanac. The pages waxened from the soiled press of his hand
|
1894143
|
He hunched low and forward on his bike, his 14-year old self, flying down the dusty back roads of this Great Midwestern Land, his head full of the smell of the algebraic girl he sat behind in math class just hours ago.
|
189376
|
Eating Grief at Bickford's · From Allen Ginsberg's “Kaddish” There are no places anymore Where I can sit at a threadbare table Pick at the crumbs on my plate And wipe The white dust From my pitch …
|
189353
|
leave a trail of potential weapons dropped from your shaking hands. you must always make it easy for him to follow.
|
18922625
|
There's no surcease from heat, no "cool of the evening," like the songs say about summer in the South. Those songwriters sat under fans in the Brill Building in downtown Manhattan.
|
189200
|
“Regard this inkblot,” the Psych says to Worker 168. “What do you see?” Worker 168, a thin young women wearing overalls, peers at the inkblot. “I see a beautiful summer day,” she says. “A young woman, wearing a flowing dress, sits…
|
