1162 2 1
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She was asked: “What would it mean to be in a great earthquake to you?”
She said: “It would mean that I might never see him again.”
Then she panicked. She came to me and said: “Do you mind riding in the other car? I have to ride in the same car wi
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1161 0 0
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Dave Sharpe silently pulled his desk chair out of its nook that was conveniently placed underneath his desk. He took a deep breath as he slowly took his place in the seat and nudged it into a perfect…
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1161 10 8
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"I’d rather move a word around a page
than raise a glass or pass a plate
or work a room immune to poetry."
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1161 9 4
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1161 0 0
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This girl had burn scars on her body which hurt a little, to be touched, so we had to be real careful, gentle. I turned her over slowly so as not to shatter her. She wanted to be fucked, badly. But only one time. It was enough to be handled again like bef
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1161 9 1
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The smell of Coppertone Suntan Lotion always brings back memories of the beach. I remember you rubbing it on my stomach and you kept moving lower and lower. I had on a bikini bottom (very daring) and you rubbed your finger all along the rim of it just a
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1161 4 1
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Shame must search the soul, broken, original, with its primitive juices stirred. Moved until now only by the musk, only the stroll you lived with, the worry, the sorrow, the drama – may I never conceal or recover from it!
Yes, I might beg or steal the
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1160 7 3
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No harp now hails, / no wood sings mirth, no good hawk / swoops through the hall, no swift steed / paws dirt in the castle-yard. Woeful death / has emptied earth of an ancient race.
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1160 2 0
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I won't ever forget the image of my father, behind the wheel of the Cadillac he so loved. Even as a ten year old, and more as an adult, I could never figure out why he loved that car as much as he did. I must explain that he was really my step father,…
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1160 6 5
|
Prospero's in his cell and I'm in mine.
He drowns his books, I'm drowning in mine.
He exercises his power–I'm powerless to exercise.
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1160 9 7
|
He remembers his father’s concrete slab hands. Balled into fists they resembled kettlebells.
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1160 1 0
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Some things are said.
Others, never.
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1160 1 1
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artifacts gone obsolete / miscegenating in suspension
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1160 2 2
|
A likeness borne in silk, rich contours of canvas giving life to the seascape.
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1160 6 2
|
His beard is an eighteenth-century forest / in south central France
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1159 0 0
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Check the sweet lunar springs that we are still bathing in. The swelling in the genitals there. Check to make sure we are ripe, and in season. It’s our way of being willing, strong under the sweet icy waters, with that fertility that is derived from you
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1159 0 0
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1159 4 1
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They had to dress normal, my other boyfriends, be beardless, hairless, everything torn away, plucked, shorn smooth, because it elicited moisture on the tongue (when I was with you.) But I grew bored as the day before I first saw you.
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1159 2 0
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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.
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1159 1 0
|
my tiny white world, the cube in the closet in the back above the shelving in a secret compartment cut into the wall
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1159 5 3
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It was a summer full of rage and discontent. The air had a new taste to it, reminiscent of the tang of battery acid.
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1159 2 1
|
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1159 8 2
|
A pair of snakes contemplates gulping a pair of frogs.
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1159 5 1
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the Coke made his butt leak blood
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1159 1 1
|
"We improvised to show our Spanish compadres that we meant them no disrespect, and the running of the cats was born."
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1159 0 0
|
The canvas bag lay crumpled and moaning in the middle of the room as Mister and Miss Marital Bliss contemplated what to do to it next. Spots of deep crimson blossomed like spring flowers all over the white sack and a large pool had gathered underneath. Rivulets of blood…
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1158 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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1158 0 0
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The men stir around so aimlessly
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1158 3 3
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“the calendar of my future was in there!”/
yes: all tomorrows belong to the dead cats,/
their decisions relinquish one day per day.
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1158 1 1
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In 1609 Ben Jonson was hired to write a work in celebration of the opening of a new shopping mall.
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