1133 17 10
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I hate turnstiles and revolving doors
|
1133139
|
Our local low rent ice-based superhero said he’d had enough and would check back in early spring.
|
113322
|
My name is Jacob Ellis. I was thinking about school and all those years and years and how they go eventually away but always remain somewhere in the mind as if imprinted on an akashic record. I was dizzy there, dizzy with dread and always on the verge of falling.…
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113300
|
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…
|
113376
|
Turningturning the pale grey spot.She sits in her carin the parking lotwith the radio onleaning back picking a thin piece of skin from her finger.Turningturningthe seagulls move aroundand aroundabove the asphaltas though it was the wave,with…
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113333
|
Like the miserable sledgehammer am I, with no adjective in place to praise your moon, you are a hole well-worn into my favorite hanging rock. I've only been able to reinvent this wronged language, in which being moved…
|
113320
|
They were overweight, diabetic, and trapped in a cellphone dead zone.
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113300
|
Aleister Crowley walks in and all of a sudden the bar's filled with angels and demons and pagan things. Wood nymphs and stuff like that. Wittgenstein, to his credit, keeps cool. He just stands over there next to the dart machine, pointing at things and naming them. Like…
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113322
|
My chin is half-eaten. My chest is gone. There is a rhythm to how each flame licks me. Like how you used to in the mornings before work. Before the coffee. Before the toaster. Before a rose clenched between your teeth and dancing.
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113200
|
She sold bottles of happiness at the marketplace. She woke up at dawn every morning to capture rays of happiness in the air. She would jump and let her fingers thread through each ray before sorting them into bottles. She always added a red ribbon to the tops of each…
|
113242
|
Little scoundrel Name of leaf, No one knows He's a thief. The shadows stretch, The birds fly south, And summer's a word Of ash in the mouth When all of a sudden The colors are gone But for a red…
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1132119
|
untilled, weedy, left to rest
|
113200
|
The road to heaven is littered for miles with dead sinners, or more precisely, the sides of the roads are lined with crosses on which the sinners are nailed. It has always been so, since time started ticking for Civilized…
|
113200
|
We had sex, but hadn’t established a strong relationship. We liked each other as more than friends, but I was worried that Claudia was acting as a honey trap and spying on me for Dan Arris.
|
113221
|
What the fuck is that smell? Puke? Pine-Sol? Oh shit!Back seat of a cop car.Again?What is it this time?“Excuse me, officer? Where the fuck are my clothes?”
|
113252
|
|
113255
|
"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.
|
113220
|
The crow in darkness;visual palpitationsunder the street lamp. In the dark morningmy car disrupts the still cold;a blister on earth.Never mind the cat.The Japanese Peace Lillywill steal your last breath.The blacktop highway;a rough scab to cover thedeep man-cut…
|
1132105
|
"All he wants to do is watch the Hallmark Channel"
|
113100
|
It’s good to get fucked in the rain.
It’s good to get fucked in the back seat of a power boat on a river in the hot summer air with the mosquitos sucking the life out of you.
It’s good to get fucked with your bare back rubbing up against the rough bar
|
113100
|
Alice sat on the edge, her legs dangling in the void...
|
113100
|
I walked up to the bar and sat down on the empty stool.“You don't want to sit there,” said the bartender.“Oh? Why not?” I replied.“It's haunted.”I laughed, but then stopped when I saw he was not laughing with me.“You're…
|
113142
|
It is absurd to think that a cockroach will wake up one day as a human. And it is certainly surreal to imagine that a fat pigeon in Paris, New York or Rome, say, or even Prague, will one day take up a pen and begin writing poetry, or wave the wand of phil
|
113111
|
She burns
her wrists with menthols; she says
it's too much effort to cut
them. Besides, it's
more fun.
|
113100
|
(Recently unearthed from a “Lost Luggage” travel trunk abandoned in a train station in Salt Lake City, Utah) Dear Seamus: Boy, we sure did enjoy having you as a member of our family all those years. I would have to say you…
|
113120
|
Bring me your poor, your tired, your hungry
anyone skilled at evading highway tolls
Bring me your escape artists dangling upside down
in a straight-jacket from the sides of tall buildings
Don’t let them starve in the prisons of the world
Bri
|
113033
|
In Nebraska, I looked up from the flatness, to her face, then down to the page and saw this: Real people have joy.
|
113000
|
We stared wistfully at the clouds; wishfully at the stars.
|
113010
|
Two minutes later Alicia Morgan stepped out of her car. Her smile faltered momentarily and he saw that she assumed the mistake was hers
|
113020
|
He cut a hole in the sack
|
