855 2 1
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You had to put up with
Sunday drivers
You had to love children
All children, all of them!
This is what it took to be God
It wasn’t fun
You had to be patient, sometimes
You had to pretend to look the other way
You needed to lose your he
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85531
|
If in the course of a discussion of improvements someone says: “I have no idea” in a particular way at a particular moment, “I have no idea” will migrate and soon lots of people will find themselves saying “I have no idea” again and again without knowing
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85500
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Ordonez gives me a look that speaks a volume–Volume 4 of the Encyclopedia Americana, Birmingham to Burlington, which includes the subject of bullfighting.
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85400
|
What was it about you that so inflamed the flower of our youth? That you could touch lightly that which illuminates all splendor and simplicity? That you could reach beyond mere flesh directly into the gates of heaven, and put me there, floating within
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85454
|
Wheel turning, round and round again
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85365
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po-mo parchments piled high deep: / credentials earnest transcripts earned /
coursework scholarships helpt buy.
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85320
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85343
|
for Edward Victory is death. Rock stardom is death. Life is murderous.Love's still beaded much longer and stronger than any row of round headed lovers. You can't stop death from turning to face you, but itsnot exactly expecting your poem's referral either. In…
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85342
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85322
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The body receives its embrace but / only by the anti-body.
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85210
|
www.echapbook.com/fiction/ratch
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85285
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Don't forget to fuck me. Blow me. Suck me. Don't forget to fuck me. [REPEAT 2X]
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85200
|
Gabe had told the stewardess that he wanted to talk to Ben. Her name was Claudia and she knew whom he was talking about. That foxy musician Ben, thought Gabe, he probably boned her on some previous flight.
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85286
|
Death threats? Just another mumbling day in the world of Willy Gregg.
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85100
|
Maybe love shouldn't exist
. . .
If we follow this notion
there is no great need
Where does it come from,
this great need?
. . .
If (it) is in the blood
how do they get it out?
If not,
where is it
If they do not allow
thought
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85110
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what i will always remember of you is of that singular sunday / when a black lock of hair brushed against your cheek
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85011
|
That morning arrived with the sound of steel pipe hitting the ground
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84953
|
If you ever find yourself outside a funeral home lighting up
contemplating the future of the unknown, contemplate this
Maybe the cigarette’s wet on your lip and you are wondering why
Or in the middle of the night you are lying awake
and try sa
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84822
|
he felt like ranting about cars.
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84811
|
There I saw a woman with dyed long red hair
Dressed all in furs and a short tight skirt
Way too young for her age
And she was banging a tampon on her leg
At the performance of Ramblin Jack Eliot
And no one got up to throw red wine on her
Ful
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84820
|
When one hears the siren call of artsy high school love, there’s not much one can do except go ahead and crash on the rocks, sending incense sticks and candles flying.
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84810
|
"I'm dreading it," says Kati Rivers, a visual artist who has lived in the Fort Point Channel district. "A bunch of fat suburbanites driving up rents and crowding creative people out of the little cafes and bistros."
|
84733
|
“What the hell was that?
Is that your take on
The Deer Hunter?”
|
84720
|
I do not like it when the dead look back at me.
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84798
|
Her hands are swift and supple as swallows, bouncing off the keyboard in rapid-fire constellations of notes, because she's playing Bach's Concerto no.1 in D Minor, which is busy and prodigal and all over the place. She is Polina Olegovna Osetinskaya, a beautiful Russian…
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84774
|
...Or perhaps it has; It depends which way you look at it. Perhaps the reader may cite laziness As my reason for not titling this Any other than I would have done As now, with such a title As it has, since for some reason I never…
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84798
|
He felt sick at heart, as if he'd just been told he'd been fired from a job to which he'd devoted 60 years of his professional life. And for no good reason; the profession no longer existed. It had slipped into obsolescence, like blacksmithing at the beginning of the…
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846135
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Dawn is spreading its pink and blue colours over the morning. Pleasant hues, with children playing and birds chattering. A light morning, without commitments, without waves, open to promises. Mornings don't speak our language and don't make the same gestures. They speak a…
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84610
|
I turned and gaped-
In horror gasped--
There was no clear escape.
Down Winter Street, up Park perhaps?
Too late-she had me in her grasp.
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84500
|
“Why don’t you dump Mr. Fitness here and give one of us a chance?” a mouse says.
“I wouldn’t fuck you for practice,” she says sharply.
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