1046 3 0
|
this is one of those
"there are two kinds of people"
sort of things.
|
104631
|
There was the small wooden structure near the base of the mountain. It had weathered many storms and its walls talked about the scars of this. In the hills to the west various cries came out from feral animals that seemed to go linger that autumn. But it had been a…
|
104641
|
in making your sad blown apart hearts rise up and squeeze out the kindness juices ever so sweetly anymore. Tried that. Didn't work out too well, not for me, wasn't a BIG time of waste, but did eat up some important wee…
|
1046128
|
Scraping the baked on Bar B Q sauce from the grabbing ends of the stainless steel tongs has my total attention.
|
104621
|
When gratitude on lovers' lips rings false/ As flattery by courtly sycophants,/ Take care to well distinguish gold from dross/ So as to gild gladder remembrances.
|
104600
|
Petroleum products leaked from her shattered hull, still stinking of a battle its leaders not only lost, but forfeited.
|
104600
|
You carved my initials into your inner thigh with a jagged stem -
|
104585
|
We broke our hearts rather than sit in your reversible seats with the plain brown paper packages tied on our laps, we did so together. You don't want to hear about that. It gets too close to the actual murder of love. I…
|
104500
|
What happens when you accidentally run into your lover's daughter on a plane.
|
104500
|
On the parking lot of the bar, two in the afternoonYou notice the battered car, dented up body of a Ford escort,No hubcaps, plastic in two of windows,It yells a story to youA familiar storyHead into the bar2 O' clock in the afternoonIt's a nice, sunny, warm Saturday…
|
104553
|
Cockroaches may be falling through the holes
in the floorboards of heaven, but we will not be disturbed.
We are agents, free and clear, even if a little bit mean.
I want to quit worrying about money,
but the angels upstairs won’t let me.
The
|
104511
|
We’ve been married for 24.1667 years now and–well–my wife was starting to remind me of a public building. The Registry of Motor Vehicles, to be precise.
|
104521
|
“You’re just like me,” she said, as dawn was breaking. “You like sex.”
|
104522
|
like they are trying to not get noticed by fickle death. It clearly marks them in a targeted way. Very ironic. Here's the only message I want you to ever have from me : quick, scramble like a monkey with a stolen banana in your tiny hairy…
|
104511
|
Times they were a blazing, the Pheasant met God in Piccadilly meadows
|
104521
|
In the bad dreams of bums living under the freeway overpass
dwells the laughing gas of their previous lives
the humorous opium operas of unsatisfactory whore-wars
and the open sores of ether-filled balloons
in the bad dreams of bums under
|
104400
|
This girl who looks about ten years old and her Pomeranian puppy are staring at my left arm and my right hand keeps filling out the form and I know I shouldn't but I say what she's been begging me to for the last half hour: It wasn't Wilbur. It was a woman. A girl,…
|
104410
|
She has almost-black eyes and auburn hair and round brown nipples that are always taut – as though in anticipation. I don’t know what color auburn is. I just know that’s the word that comes to mind when I look at her hair.
She calls herself Mama Legb
|
104433
|
That son of a bitch meant every word. Every filthy mouthful of insults that hit me was intentional and focused.
|
104420
|
I toyed with the idea of suicide, then quickly cast it off. Death wouldn’t be interesting. Liberating, perhaps, but not interesting. I hadn’t yet lived enough to die.
|
104443
|
a few numbers/
and a handful of their operations,
|
1044148
|
Sometimes we hurt ourselves, we scratch ourselves, we bleed — for a simple joy... All I wanted to do was to find the poplar again — the tree of my young arms, of my budding breasts. My fingers used to circle around its bold and vigorous waist, but in the…
|
104411
|
What about the poor nobodies to somebodies being tossed like wet rags onto more wet rags?
|
104420
|
She's been considering her breasts more now.
|
1043225
|
|
104344
|
It’s always daylight there
My brother comes running down the sidewalk
holding out his arms and calling my name
He’s wearing suspenders. He’s gotten thinner
in heaven
He embraces me warmly
wanting us to be friends
I give up trying to resist
|
104332
|
In the sad suburban subdivision
with its cul-de-sacs and broken curbs
|
104312
|
Do you know if you were actually speaking to me there?
|
1043116
|
macho bucks in velvet defy you driving down the lane
|
104321
|
“First I had two men in my life,” she says. “Now I have no men in my life.” And I watch her adjusting a strap to keep her shoulder bare. It’s the aspiration of flesh to beauty that is keeping us alive. Cool and warm pastels above her bare arm, warm red
|
