704 4 0
|
She was deaf, but he was not; they both could sign.
|
701 3 3
|
Let it rage.
I shall not suppress you.
Let your rage speak to you of the sorrow it hides,
until your sadness swallows you whole.
|
699 6 2
|
hands slide into gloves unseen / eyes disappear behind glass / the crank turns the flywheel spins: / every octave has droppt low / sub-sonic shudders within—
|
696 15 16
|
The effort involved in making
my chocolate chip cookies,
do you know? They're not
easy. No. Not easy.
|
696 2 1
|
Rise up, carcass—march! / Naught is new beneath the jaundiced sun: / last of the last of Louis' gold, / light is sliced through clean / beneath flecks and films of time.
|
695 1 1
|
What if I let it be known that I've been enjoying a heavy correspondence with Queen Elizabeth my entire life? We began the correspondence on the very day she was coronated. February 6th, 1952. I was four years old and working as a bartender in Cheyenne, Wyoming. …
|
691 4 2
|
The conspicuous police car was conspicuously just ahead.
|
687 21 17
|
They sang and clapped and stomped shod feet on hardwood floor, the smell of man sweat and bomb-making thick as perfume.
|
687 3 2
|
in dark recesses of this morgue of earth / where beauty of the good does not compel, / where evil's horrors seldom do repel— / Americ gods reign o'er from birth to birth.
|
684 5 4
|
“—but although we've catalogued instances of this on other planets, it seems never to've led to the global outbreak of psycho-phrenias and neuro-pathologies as those that plagued the Tiānxiàns!”
|
681 4 4
|
|
680 1 0
|
Sunlight slaps the asphalt hard. Steam rises. It looks like thought. The sweet vapors of rumination.
|
673 7 5
|
|
670 16 7
|
#281: If you make it to the end on this one, I'll send you $1,000 in cash and a bag of apples. Your choices are Granny Smith and Fuji. I can also pay you in euros if that helps.
|
669 2 3
|
I walked into a novel and sat down on a rock. The language was distressed and full of cyclones and swells. I could smell embalming fluid and folklore. Everywhere I went there were doorknobs, escalators, and clocks. Objects of all genre overflowing with prose. I stood at …
|
654 3 1
|
Say say say say say say says our I-I-I-me tunes:
|
652 1 1
|
People are yelling for Little Elvis
|
651 1 1
|
She rolled onto her back and spread her hind legs. Her lewd poses were fine on a fat cat, but as I rubbed her belly I wondered if that’s what might have gotten her into trouble as a human. I tried to reassure myself that her indiscretions weren’t my fault
|
650 5 3
|
Leave us to hide our sundials in our caves— / discard our scrolls that guide no more, / to time our nights to learn if we can grieve / —we’ve too much noise or less than we can hear . . .
|
648 11 4
|
Christian Bell can’t sleep in/on the following: airplanes, car trips, couches, first nights in hotels, jury duty holding area, commuter train, work breakroom, tent, park bench, the ground.
|
641 6 4
|
Here were men trying their best to kill other men....
|
640 1 2
|
It's house has seen every day and every night
From its windows stars are born and die
|
637 3 3
|
I won't read between the lineswhen the linesI'm daily given are half truthsI will take what you sayas truewhenthe truthsuits me as well as it suits youI heard you yelling at him, you knowyou didn't know I was home yet but I wasI was grabbing a package off the…
|
631 13 10
|
Determined to make this Thanksgiving more special than the last, she ponders long on how to create a chiduckey.
|
631 4 3
|
There is someone looking for youfor himself or her. I don't know if they'll keep on looking forever when we live our present lives so far apart from each other. You might as well be behind a glass at all times. But I still would want that lucky…
|
626 8 4
|
|
625 7 6
|
|
615 19 18
|
A pet scorpion.
A pet scorpion named Chris.(1)
|
614 2 1
|
“But he's going to the University of Chicago!” “I know.” …
|
613 2 1
|
1. The Doctor Sudan, 1936 The trap was sprung! The pair of would-be plunderers hung feet-over-head in a robust net of tightly woven rope, arms and legs entangled, alarm issuing like a Klaxon from…
|