2141 4 4
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Blueberries are like testicles: you have to hold them gently, from underneath.
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213975
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His open door was interpreted by the neighbor as an invitation to all but place a mirror under his nose. She demanded opportunities to fluff his pillows and coerced him into accepting gifts of food, more than he could possibly eat, and sometimes ate with
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213965
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Because it seems never to be beginning, always picking up in the middle with it’s long resonant tones, which themselves begin as if they’ve always been. Maybe that’s why we love old, sacred music. And by we I, of course, mean my two-year-old Charlie and m
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2139147
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I HAVE NOTHING MORE TO SAY TO YOU, she lisps, and, with this, the fissure in the man’s head reaches the bottom of his chin and the hollow head splits in two.
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21392210
|
The Count was used to boredom but he had reached the point where he was even bored with boredom.
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213864
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The day the thinking factory imploded everyone for miles knew there was a problem. The sound of the walls crumbling in upon themselves was heard for miles, or perhaps it wasn't.
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213821
|
round & round
this empty block
again & again i go
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21381410
|
I can never tell if he’s drunk or using some sort of substance or if perhaps his brain just doesn’t fire at the pace that we have come to accept as normal.
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213895
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During fifth grade, I was called /
closeted queer and tall faggot.
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2138114
|
My name is Wanda McClure and I lived in the foothills of Eastern Kentucky. A small town miles off the interchange, and mostly in the middle of nowhere. I lived in a trailer. I was 52 years old.
|
213811
|
Pushing his jeans down around his ankles, he knelt, and pressed his moist dipstick against my hole. “Do you always do this on a first date?” he said
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2138219
|
to say that he was
doing fine
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2138177
|
Real men don’t screw around in Canada, he confided to the strawberry blonde sitting beside him at the Houston bar. He’d bought her a couple of beers, and her body language said she was interested.
|
213794
|
I think that I write toward death and to stave off death and to remember the dead and to address what is dead in me.
|
213700
|
Ai picked up the ball and noticed the feathers. Wings unfurled and the head looked up. Staring deep into the bird’s eyes, Ai could have sworn she saw flames.
|
213751
|
I’ve never liked birds. There’s something smug about the way they look at us, we prisoners of gravity, something self-congratulatory in their songs. Maybe I’m just projecting my own feelings about being stuck on the ground, attributing attitudes t
|
2137103
|
I can feel everything getting closer, the past catching up. All the cunts and cocks and clits I've ever touched. I left them all on the other side of the world, and now they're creeping back to me.
|
213610
|
"Isn't it time to remove the nails, and put Jesus to rest once and for all," Mary asks.
|
21362013
|
A tiny story, 55 words, just enough to fit on a . . .
|
213500
|
“Why have you not voted Mindeo”, Tidi squeaked. “Because there is a third way. If we stay only here, we will eventually be driven out. To attack the erect worms to extend our…
|
2135147
|
a question that (never) left
|
2134193
|
"And you’ll forgive my sayin’, your Maggie’s in heat, and if ya want to keep her you’re gonna ‘ave to fight. To be sure after this they’ll leave ya alone.”
|
2134119
|
Dude -- I DON'T want to date your boat!
|
213371
|
In Nebraska, we found a dead man lying between the furrows of a field. He’d been there awhile in the heat and the sun, the only shade provided by a cloud of flies. The dead man lay on the ground, decaying, disappearing into the dirt:
|
213387
|
A child in a new world/
by way of the old I won’t remember.
|
213360
|
Maybelline Jones is my sister, my friend, and I try to tell her the right way to be.
|
21332424
|
|
2133144
|
He had the cannonball head of Hemingway, the stump neck, sloping shoulders and barrel chest.
|
2132204
|
It's supposed to resemble the sea bed. These fish have never seen the outside of an aquarium and even if they had, they are reef fish, they'd probably get the bends and die if they went to the bottom of the ocean where the chances of them finding a cerami
|
213241
|
There’s an oak tree in Hanover, New Hampshire. Twenty years old, it is still a sapling. I imagine that one day the tree will have a commanding view of the Connecticut River and Norwich, Vermont, where my mom sat in bed, crying, watching everything unfol
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