1099 2 1
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Balls excite our interest because we live on a ball. We travel through space on a ball.
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109901
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His long black lashes stir, flutter a wink. His eyes catch yours through the dark reflection of your face, illuminated from beneath by wavering candlelight. Reflection obscures his features; they become yours.
|
109933
|
in a complete rage he lifted his entire golf bag full of clubs over his head and threw them into the creek.
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109944
|
I was at the bend in the road
thinking of Robert Frost
but there was no fork,
there was no yellow wood,
there wasn’t even a horse
to ask me why or what if
There was no decision to be made
just a thousand tourists from Prague
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109943
|
Jimi, Jim, and Janis
Kurt and Amy too
They died and gone to heaven
And fit inside a shoe
Room 114’s where they lie
Their eyes wide open
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10991712
|
Matt was among those rare creatures; an ideal kind of reader ...
|
109931
|
He consumed the key lime pie, while wearing a lime-green sports bra.
|
109930
|
The concrete guy’s truck is parked in front of your house. There’s nothing for him to be doing there except your wife.
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109911
|
artifacts gone obsolete / miscegenating in suspension
|
109942
|
I feel I am, in fact,/
the dimmest and least wise/
man on earth.
|
109944
|
Well, I walked in on you, then you walked out on me
And that was when it happened – the end of history
And that should have been sufficient
But I think you know it wasn’t
I remember it was you who told me
Dreams are only efficient when illusio
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109900
|
....sucking my blood
kind of draws the line.
|
109951
|
|
109843
|
And what is it I’m supposed to do
With all this unsolicited advice?
|
1098129
|
The murder of two teens late one humid night on a tiny rural Virginia island brings a dark, malignant mystery edging into the village known as Leicester Court House.
|
109800
|
The sexuality comes over us in waves. We need to hold things, someone. The women, the men, side by side, our features blending together. We notice the small curved lines at the corners of the mouth. We notice everything. And the animal is still inside m
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109897
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It's not that there's nothing new, it's all new. That blue color is not the one you remember, but the one you are experiencing, and at the same time, you bring everything you are, crushing into dust, with you. Green…
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109800
|
Bloggers venomously characterized Mitt as a "bumper sticker Patriot", the kind of coward who wraps himself up in a flag, puts a bumper sticker on his car, sings the national anthem at the top of his lungs and is the first person to yell out "Freedome Isnt
|
109820
|
After Loretta McKinley had sat for just such a time on a rock near the tribe, hallucinating and coming as close to death and God as she ever had, she walked into the camp and asked to speak with the elders.
|
109811
|
In 1609 Ben Jonson was hired to write a work in celebration of the opening of a new shopping mall.
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1098105
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109853
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Most of life, it
turns out,
is pathetic.
Very little is funny.
We have to generate our
own laughter.
Canned laughter
may have to do.
Even if we have to carry
the can around our neck
like a Saint Bernard
or strapped to our
hip
|
109720
|
but isn't that the case
in most long-term,
committed
relationships?
|
109710
|
I remember so many things … do you remember who I am yet? I attached pictures to jog your memory, including the house on Euclid where I lived.
That’s my high school graduation photo. I was wearing my hair short that year, and blonde and natural,
|
109731
|
Watching himself dissolve comes with no sense of meaning. It is simply what it is. He finds that curious.
|
109690
|
...it didn’t take much to just toss it aside and muster up some fresh bravado.
|
109698
|
She'd had every reason to believe he'd be difficult, though he wasn't.
|
109632
|
He’s got horns and a tail
I found him on sale
He’s got snake in his DNA
Evil in his eye
And plenty of chicken pot, chicken pot
Chicken pot pie
But he sure can play piano
With those giant lobster hands
In his ratty raccoon coat
And his
|
1096114
|
There is no need to worry about art. Art in its ideal forms stays safe. Real art resists being the object of attention. It directs your gaze, and it swings in you forever.
|
109630
|
Out the window, the butterflyhad escaped,beyond my perception and maybe into someone else's.The little boy with the kite stared back,wound his string,and ended his afternoon.
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