942 3 1
|
He consumed the key lime pie, while wearing a lime-green sports bra.
|
94200
|
Love is music
timed in heartbeat
move to rhythms ages old
|
94210
|
She's a woman who travels often. Maybe for work. Maybe for mischief. She's a "free spirit" trapped by her desire for love. But she numbs it with the warmth of a new man's touch. She leaves herself reminders that often fail her or remain inconsistent. She wants to…
|
94200
|
I don't belong. I don't feel privy to grown up conversations, yet I can't relate to teenage expectations. I'm floating on the walkways in another dimension of time. Everybody looks like ghosts functioning in robotic ways. I feel an electric eye following me in my…
|
94122
|
Pick, pick, pick. Scabrous flesh comes off. Goes into mouth. Picking like a drone. This is my leg. It tastes a little salty. Iron apparent. Partner sits across the room, on his laptop, begging. I can't stop widening the pit. Partner goes to kitchen, eats…
|
94122
|
We’re safe as houses/
and unmoved. We grow/
accustomed to the sound
|
94155
|
Here's to the new, trying ever so hard but not too hardto have an audience with their own personal God ontheir own super duper terms, wonder kids. Aren't theybeautiful, one of a kind cells, Ladies and Gentlemen? Thepaint job alone is worth the…
|
94100
|
I never thought that I would be
here
|
941126
|
The brown grackle chirps/
as she chomps a plump cricket-/
melodious meal.
|
94152
|
like a reflection vanishes
|
94110
|
She came out to Laguna Beach one time, and we saw each other at this party and she asked if I wanted to “ball,” as she put it. Yes, I said immediately, because I was famished and really wanted a lot of sex because I had just finished a three month project
|
94112
|
and I saw this man mopping a floor. He did not look like a monk, and he was smiling at something I could not see. You would not find me and I was beautiful. You would not find me and you closed that memory. I thought that was unfair and maybe it…
|
94130
|
There was no logic to the thing;
he’d left to drive his girl around.
She had lived and he had died.
|
94111
|
In 1609 Ben Jonson was hired to write a work in celebration of the opening of a new shopping mall.
|
94120
|
With nipples like those, rose-colored, we could have fed a nation!
|
94111
|
Times they were a blazing, the Pheasant met God in Piccadilly meadows
|
94122
|
Happy is a look we are trying to wear better
|
94132
|
Questions unanswered proliferate/
across the April sky, blue//
with wisps of cirrus white.
|
94096
|
|
94000
|
“That's Governor Gauda to you, punk!” This is the line from my speech “Killing Dennis Gauda.” The speech lost the Tall Tales competition at the division level, but I was unfortunate to have a chance to do this speech for Dennis Gauda …
|
94000
|
It could be there is a little me, somewhere, truth be known. One time in Laguna Beach I slept with a girl I met at this café, the Jolly Roger, I think, when we went back to my apartment and had unprotected sex. She said she was on the pill, but you neve
|
94000
|
The coffee cup was still full. Black hot steaming smoke signals climbed toward the ceiling, like blowing soot out of dirty bagpipe lungs. The mug exhaled constant and slow like the Fall, until room temperature crept from the handle around…
|
94065
|
The superhero is out there in the fields, discovering herself.
|
94031
|
On-air personalities inflate a balloon Trump head to the point of bursting.
|
94075
|
“Look them straight in the eye, keep your mouth shut unless spoken to, and make no sudden moves.”
|
94042
|
Below them, the clag shears open in irregular patches, the lights of Seattle resolving themselves through the thinning overcast then vanishing again by turns.
|
93921
|
Let’s just say I’m pissed. Indignant. Angry about living in a universe that appears to be utterly amoral.
|
93901
|
Her dad regaled me with stories of his up-from-the-bootstraps climb out of poverty on the hard-scrabble, rough-and-tumble Lower East Side of New York, where he founded the leading supplier of hyphens to writers of purple prose.
|
93900
|
Inside a restroom stall, Herbert Casey Jr. took a soggy roll of cash from his boot and placed a quarter of the wet bills into his wallet. He divided the rest into the three empty pockets of his blue jeans.
|
93900
|
"Come into my face." said Duras famously as she neared death. This is very beautiful. If one takes Duras to speak of something akin to the 'face' as given us by Levinas, and we may display this face here as something like an Husserlian universal…
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