1181 7 7
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Times were tough. They met out on the right-of-way on Highway 61 heading south, each trying to hitch a ride to New Orleans where they might find work. Albert walked up to her lugging a saxophone in a scuffed up case. Mamie had old cloth suitcase. After handshake bona fides…
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1181 2 1
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martyred young women lie in hospital beds
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1181 4 3
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1180 6 2
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Look, “Wolfie,” (or “Pharaoh,” or whatever your name is now) a little too much information, don’t you think? I don’t need to hear all the details about you and Sharon. It’s my life, and I’ll cry if I want to – to alter the song just a
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1180 0 0
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The house stood quietly in its surrounds. Unnerved by the beauty that enveloped it. Green forest trees loomed round the house protecting it from the outside world and in front of it lay a sweeping lake that disappeared into the trees on…
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1180 8 5
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She slipspaper thinshe ripspaper thin
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1180 0 0
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I’ll widen a wing out of myself, if you want. I’ll wash out the more volatile salts of man’s innate salt. I’ll awaken the milky sense the night sky’s made of, under Van Gogh’s heaven. Use the same salt wind sailing over all origin, the rim of the cup an
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1180 2 2
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"Excuse me. I believe you have a little something falling from your right nostril there," he said, pointing with his pinky.
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1180 6 6
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the moment he started walking
my hands were given new tasks to do:
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1180 5 5
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"Where've you been?" the image in the mirror asked. "I haven't seen you since yesterday," she said.
"Yeah, I miss you too," he said.
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1180 10 5
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1179 2 1
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I know I was hungry. I was hungry for what you had to offer, your fast cars, your dad’s ski boat, your beautiful mouth and its pretty words, your Bohemian eyes and yes, for the joy you could give me between the legs.
But I was unprepared for the lif
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1179 5 2
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We head home, skirting along the coast,
humble before catapulting waves;
the lighthouse near invisible
if not for a single band of red.
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1179 3 1
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Where does the foam from the lattes go?
I'm not being flip--I want to know.
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1179 5 4
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Each brief life is lived in dedication//
to the honeyed buzz of the colony,
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1179 2 0
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Still worried. I could use some more hope in my oatmeal.
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1179 2 2
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1179 1 0
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Someone had scrawled her on the walls.
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1179 4 1
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You will know the country for fences, for feces, for cows, or,
You will know the country for the smell of hay and manure blowing over the hills to you.
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1179 4 4
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The world is beginning to lose what little hair it has left. Follicles litter the streets and scrape along merrily in the wind like one last turn of the world defying knob of being and knowing. But the thing I want to say here is how beautiful…
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1179 4 2
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You don't see the bruises ... you can't foresee the pain. It's intense, so deep and yet so volatile, in vain. He slapped my head once more while he uttered for the millionth time the same old words again: "You're a loser and you'll never win. I hate for you to be my…
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1178 2 0
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1178 3 3
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That son of a bitch meant every word. Every filthy mouthful of insults that hit me was intentional and focused.
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1178 0 0
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Because I was feeling so good, so certain, so ready to move forward, and then all of a sudden, BANG. I was the bad one, the careless menace. Unbelievable. How could my entire position in the universe suddenly shift like that, from one moment to the next? I was here, and…
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1178 2 0
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The president snapped awake at three AM. He realized he was a serial killer. Highly trained and equipped killers on his orders were summarily murdering thousands of raggedly dressed people in the name of Democracy.
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1178 2 1
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By the time he says “I am tired of the smell of pig shit and death” you’ve already lost interest
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1178 3 2
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http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/articles/2011/07/17/imagine_mimes_as_the_mbta_noise_police/
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1178 6 1
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I remember distinctly the first time I saw Lynda. She was not a stunning-looking girl by any stretch of the imagination. She was short, with naturally blond Swedish hair that she wore in a long ponytail that dropped down her back. It was freezing outs
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1177 3 3
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Rocky looked iron-built, tall and lean, not round like April. Russian lawn ornament, I said, mistaking the thought as mine.
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1177 4 3
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I love that moment in Hamlet when the Ghost first appears. It seems so real, thanks in large measure to Horatio's sober outlook & initial skepticism. It's really happening. Their eyes are popping out of their heads. And it makes me wonder, how would I react if I…
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