1258 6 0
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The silence grew louder as it grew longer.
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125833
|
It’s too early in the morning to play the glockenspiel. I’ll just sit here and knit this tiger.
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125700
|
I had committed the perfect crime, and I had left nothing to chance; my best strategy was chancing nothing. Prudence and planning were my only allies, and these are the best allies of success. Usually.
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125711
|
I held the steam and scrubbed it. How do you do that? asked Willy. How do you scrub steam? It is so, you know, diaphanous. I said to Willy, because Willy was a good man and listened with both ears, we adapt to the heart's convulsions. I send my grammar to a…
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125755
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As a boy Edward had stayed in the confessional several times in a row. The priest was drunk and couldn't tell it was the same kid over and over. The tiny door slid open…”Scobbity bobbity…tell me your sins…” Edward confessed what he thought were sins, then said…
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125710
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Before they ever spoke, Linda and Meg had sat next to each other in the cramped lecture hall for three weeks, their thighs touching, while Dr. Laurens showed slides of ancient Japanese art. Meg's eyes never left the screen, but Linda glanced at her as often as she…
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12572312
|
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125734
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Estonia wore a liver milagro charm on a thin piece of rawhide around her neck and slept with her teeth in a jar. She was dreaming as she often did of the four children she conceived in Mexico. They had been born in bright colors and dust. Her first child Nina…
|
125753
|
Soft rain, small rain, steady rain—
what the shrubs and tangled
young red oak tree need—
|
125721
|
A door in the hallway, with 30E in brass letters glinting dully on its polished surface, lying sideways on the floor like a beacon.
|
125722
|
these fleeting
moments of insanity.
|
1257116
|
|
125621
|
Listening to old friends speak the same way, the same things tells me they have been dead a long time. They are in their form of living, their self, there is no new season of growth. I witness each of them continue on the same path because it is familiar
|
125611
|
She went for the typewriter first.
|
125651
|
If someone told me like people do / that I am a good person / I will never believe them / mostly because I own a mirror / but also because I have lived with myself / for the rest of my life
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125631
|
He had to
get over
the short bridge
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125643
|
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 …
|
125666
|
Big hair shoulder pads hell no.
|
125621
|
and i start
screaming.
i check the damage in my rearview
mirror
but there's nothing.
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125600
|
REVELATIONS Bobby Coleman hated every part of his job — not just the usual things like meaningless deadlines, unrealistic work loads, and failed expectations; Coleman was done with all of it. Too many years at his nine to five had him convinced he was…
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125620
|
We kidnap mothers of all sorts: old mothers, single mothers, young mothers (rarely), but we never do it for ransom. As a society we are adamantly opposed to the use of violence. Our mission is to remove mothers from environments they are not appreciated in, whether by their…
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125633
|
Outside cool fresh morning tiny fingers
|
125554
|
Those resting in clusters of bones, Cradled in ashes of what once were homes.
|
125520
|
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.
|
125533
|
Whenever I get the urge to write a poem I try to talk myself out of it.
|
125543
|
Gun Notches
Working Stiffs
Garlic Torch
Dog Crouch
Menbrain
Membrane
Ein Zwei Drei
Fake German Soldier
Wet Tissue
Tissue Paper Pants
Tough Stain
Adam and Evil
Closed Loophole
Wait For It
Fiscal Cliff and the Cliffhangers
Repu
|
125500
|
Tread acres and acres of aches
|
125541
|
“Namaste,” I say as I hand the guy his ticket. “The divinity within me salutes the divinity within you. Have a nice freaking day.”
|
1255103
|
The memory fades so quickly, It makes me wonder if it ever really happened? Then I have to create something new from scratch to fill the space Yeah, there are patterns, and sudden movements that pass for recollections, but couldn't they as…
|
125520
|
If you were looking for her
She's in the backwoods
grafting your skin
from her thighs
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