1100 2 2
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The woman stopped halfway down the stairs and sighed inaudibly. Her hand rested lightly on the bannister, her right foot caught in the motion of standing on the step below. …
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110094
|
Hilda Raz lost a daughter. Her son gained a persona, backed by biological components. I was impressed by his male-pattern baldness. A biological genius. And yet, I was reduced and in the elevator mentioned crying about it.
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1100108
|
She looked at the flowerthat grew through the stone hedgeon a cliffwhere the rockswere stacked to the edge of the water.It was a polka dot spot of fuchsia, Petals peeking through the green briar bush.On the bridge,Staring hard at the deep water,Ripples of blue that…
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110031
|
He had to
get over
the short bridge
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110010
|
For you, airplane wings said 'life has not been kind here'. Kind, like what was missing was tea or as if we didn't clean our windows properly. There was that time when, stood in the kitchen Rupert saw the fire. Flames lapping at the gate of…
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110021
|
I repeated your name like a mantra
/ and vomited black bile in the sink.
/ Some Buddhist monk told me
/ if I recite it ten thousand times
/ you will be mine.
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110021
|
and i start
screaming.
i check the damage in my rearview
mirror
but there's nothing.
|
110087
|
a fat crow rapturously caws over its good fortune...
not a morsel left on the street,
not even a bloodstain
|
110020
|
high school football players who'd been hit wrong and instantly become quadriplegics
|
109952
|
The moon once rose on its own
Now it takes a series of
Ropes and pulleys to get it up
Because it’s so old
And you can hear these audible groans
Coming from its craters
As it’s forced to listen to forgotten lovers
Obsessing over old lov
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109975
|
|
109932
|
Roaming beetles
knitting needles
chopstick counter attack.
|
109955
|
Written in big letters
Across the back window
Of an old Pontiac:
|
109900
|
dove from the trenches, double-check
|
109988
|
Your self-effacement hid/
so much of you//
until you died and the full/
inked legacy shown in light
|
109921
|
There: you see a woman who has laid hands on the man she walks with. Tomorrow she will kill herself. Let me speak her life. Born alone, without event. Moon, gibbous. Month, Julius, the tail end. A Leo. Many other signs and wonders seen to have been…
|
109901
|
It's soundless, but they're
saying please,
don't let it hurt, don't let us
be consumed by the air,
don't let it be madness.
My muscles tense
in bare rhythm.
|
109973
|
Sometimes you want to strike out at me. What is stopping you? There is no stopping you. You know I will not retaliate. Gone is all that I will be to you then.
|
109911
|
Bullets and cars can kill in the cityThe weather doesn't feel rightIt was hot yesterday.And has now gotten coolerThe wind blows heavy,And it's rainingThe sky has turned greenAs people sit down to hearThe news reports on the radioThe tornado might hit us,Everyone seems to…
|
109900
|
A man walks on the moon my mother knew at Purdue.
|
109885
|
I'm not plagued with high levels. Must be all the raking I do. My pubes look as lush as my hair, so fire isn't even a concern. Maybe heat exhaustion is.This might be a poem,My oceans aren't small.
|
1098108
|
Once with the lights flickering....
|
109831
|
Ha. “Real damage.” The guy was in the ICU when I woke up in the jail cell. Turns out he was a cop. In a small town. The town where it happened. How I ended up in the state police holding cell, I have no idea. Just lucky, I guess.
|
109843
|
If I had alcohol in me right now I'd be singing out loud. I'd turn this boat around & turn it into a karaoke bar. Why is it even worth mentioning? This is why people gaze abstractedly at the ground. Ambition is thirty gallons of gas & a red Silverado. Wishing, on…
|
109822
|
Published in Calamities Presshttp://calamitiespress.com/2014/08/24/peace-be-with-you-slippy-realism-by-joao-cerqueira/ Peace be with you Jesus returned to earth by walking down the middle of…
|
109800
|
At the first door the clumsy research assistant from the Wistar Institute of Anatomy and Biology rings the bell and when the door opens Mr. Whitman says " O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring!" instead of "Trick or treat" just as we'd prac
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109810
|
We creep the hill, flat on our bellies through yellowed grass and stone, black dirt grimed on our bright faces like powdered war paint. We are sitting ducks as we approach, out in the open like this but Cobb believes no one will be watching this side; it
|
109884
|
This soil is bereft, with only mocking water
below, so catacombed in chalk.
|
109820
|
she covered me with down and kissed me good night, tucking in loose ends, whispering prayers... she cut me out of paper and blew me into life. she held the scissors near my neck in case i put up a fight. she covered me in clothes cut out of colored paper: polka dotted…
|
109820
|
How we segued from exploring the wind to eating a nitwit sandwich.
|
