1238 0 0
|
“How about licensed-character theme funerals for kids who die young?” I asked, broaching a sensitive subject. “Do you think they’re”–I hesitated–”a money maker?”
|
123811
|
I should have worn shorts.
|
123831
|
He had to
get over
the short bridge
|
123843
|
The old hate the young. Robe exposed monks do not Hate mosquitoes. It is one. It is one hand. It is on. Mountains don't hate sky. The rich hate the poor. The poor hate the rich. The parade of scholars hate the …
|
123865
|
Not sure I remember what's important, but I remember you. That's the whole problem I think. You're a drain where all my words wind up going down. All of them get lost inside of you. Eventually. And I'm left with nothing to say. Because all my words are…
|
123800
|
We're all just meat and atoms who can no more sense into the great beyond than a horse can fly a plane.
|
123821
|
|
123775
|
|
123720
|
I don’t understand what happened. I keep pushing your buttons but you won’t do anything. You just lie there, cold and dead, staring back at me without any light and I feel like I’m going to cry.
|
123700
|
I sat in the kitchen with the phone in my hand. The phone had just stopped ringing. When it rang, its screen lit up with the face of the caller. It vibrated and played a tune called "Dusk 2 Dawn." Now the kitchen was silent.
|
123756
|
1. During the outpouring of our newly discovered grief oh how we danced, electrical, into oblivion, maybe once, twice. It was toall to be expected, but not everything you feel is always real. After all the dust may settle, but it…
|
123776
|
Barbarians and savages wore feathers/
or frightful face paint or skin tones//
one could recognize and aim for/
with weapons one could feel
|
123700
|
dove from the trenches, double-check
|
123700
|
We didn't know what what we were reading meant. We didn't even know if we were reading it right. In fact, we suspected that we probably were not.
|
123700
|
At the week's end, memories may come to you Of weekends same as those just gone before, That fade away from seeing as a tide's grey flue, That vanishes once travelled to a shifting shore: Still, hope you'll know a girl for an hour anew, One who fades…
|
123700
|
Everything I write is gold, he mused. My words spill onto the page like ambrosia, nectar of the gods, filling an empty vessel with immortal life.
|
123720
|
How we segued from exploring the wind to eating a nitwit sandwich.
|
123732
|
rinse
plate cup glass spoon
bowl soapy water
|
1237147
|
But you can have a lap dance.
|
1236115
|
Hardly a soul could pin him for creating the vehemence that found a streamule to her pen if she wrote in cursive or a fanjet to her keyboard if she typed quickly and satisfyingly in print, employing eight fingers and two thumbs—
|
123600
|
|
123622
|
The girl went outside her door and stood and stared at the sky.there were clouds in the sky. the girl wore glasses with black framesthe girl stared at the sky some more and put on a bright yellow baseball hatshe sat in a white resin chairthe girl sat quietly and watched the…
|
123620
|
When you awaken on the other side, you will see, I was like the swan gliding before death, and the animating power of her is willing and unavoidable. And you are itching, feeling an inextinguishable sexual desire, its nightmare ink burnt in your head, n
|
123611
|
how many lighted days remain
|
123622
|
That evening, my friend and I were at a McDonalds'. It was late in the evening, and we got together after she sent me a text message she meant to send to someone else. I got a burger. She got fries.
|
123686
|
Billy's days were much like his yesterdays, with little hope the ones to come would be any different.
|
123654
|
with a finger I will (let you) know. If you mean even just one given look at the moon I will know that, too. If you peel off one lonely star and put that shining shell in your watch pocket for later or to skip across your sad …
|
123500
|
They shake, shake, while mouths say the words.
|
123543
|
A novel is an idea that has
Survived many severe beatings
While a poem is a homely thing that was
Never even asked to the dance
Art Speak, however, is the art of
Systematically overstating and
Re-inventing the Obvious to the point of
Distr
|
123541
|
“Namaste,” I say as I hand the guy his ticket. “The divinity within me salutes the divinity within you. Have a nice freaking day.”
|
