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116342
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Some tough young punk with dreadlocks
Was walking down the sidewalk while texting
And got frightened when he was buzzed
By a hummingbird
Saying “oh shit”
He ducked, but then looked all around
To make sure no one saw him
Of course, I wa
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1163155
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The trio stuffed their grilling equipment in a battered van and left for Dixieland Speedway at 4:30 am.
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116311
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"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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116200
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“Our legs are touching. Our legs. Touching. The light from the screen illuminates your eyes. Off and on. Even in night scenes. Maybe it dances in the eyes of other people there too. But I doubt it. Not like…
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116200
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Morning. A hot bright sun shines down on the cool dark depths of the deep blue sea.
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116220
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The longer this goes on the worse it gets.
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116200
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Miles from anywhere that mattered, he stood by the side of the road staring at the two-lane highway that outlined the edge of suburbia like a cement fence. Steam rose from the hood of his car as he sat on the ground and waited for the other shoe to drop.
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116210
|
They use people
then throw them away
They are after the image
There is a desperation in (it)
They behave as if they must have it
It must be a drug
to them
Are they that able?
. . .
They bring it over here and then all they want
is im
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116242
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To be free of pain. Is that what we all want?
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116210
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"Stop it! Don't fucking touch me! I fucking hate you! I'll call the cops! I'll never forgive you for this!"
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116251
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the Coke made his butt leak blood
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116232
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I would have given your son to you. I would have had him in a heartbeat. And I would have showed him your inner beauty, even though you were absent. I would have hidden nothing from his nature. I would have given him everything and anything he needed, s
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116100
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Hello, I am Enè Ioh, I have come to to tell you a story that takes place within the place. I start at the place; I go to the place. Here we are, at the place. I am now at the place. I know what I say is of no consequence and I will be killed for it. It means so…
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116100
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She lay on the cool white linoleum floor. Her eyes pointed at the dust under the refrigerator, but she didn't see it. She didn't see anything anymore. She heard the clock ticking out the seconds. Thoughts ricocheted around her brain at the speed of light, making …
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116100
|
The men stir around so aimlessly
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116111
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It all had to begin somewhere; some moment of time and space which arose in perfection- and dissolved into the now. It was a beginning he couldn't quite remember, couldn't grasp onto- it simply sifted through his fingers, sand floating away with the wind. That's not to say…
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116111
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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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116001
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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.
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116085
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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…
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116090
|
...it didn’t take much to just toss it aside and muster up some fresh bravado.
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116021
|
CALEBHe'd get up every day,don his clothes and tendto rote ablutions. He tried not to think too much.Because he knew what that would bring --the tethers he lost; failed causes,the last lover, who knew some things.Instead, he kept his eyes straight ahead,marked time,…
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116000
|
The fluorescents above a constant hum. A hymn. The child lay on the bed as the parents worriedly hovered. Fretted and dreaded. Tubes and wires led from the broken body to machines and computers that fed and cataloged every minute detail occurring in the collapsing system.…
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116000
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115900
|
The only magazine Auden subscribed to was Scientific American, a publication I had previously scorned as the trade journal of pre-med students and Nobel Prize winners.
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115944
|
Hanging out at the
Imaginary Friends Café
with all my imaginary friends,
poets, itinerant musicians, etc.
Writing close to nothing.
Can’t finish a thought,
so I’m composing a book called
“Not Quite Haiku,”
which is unfini
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115930
|
I walk past World Shaving Headquarters,
he surfaces again down where I turn
to return to Summer Street and
work, the daily bread and all that.
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115900
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It comes to him in the night. When he's lying there, staring at the ceiling. The shadows dance on the white paint, forming into monsters that get you when you sleep. The moon hangs low in the sky, dancing with the stars in a ballet that lost all movement
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115900
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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…
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115941
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Bum on a Parisian stoop begging
with his big Jackson Pollack
bare head in the rain
The water running in streaks
all over his brain
Reminding him of a painting
He once thought of
Keep going, you’re coming back
again. Get out of the car wrec
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