2097 15 16
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When Carlotta left me, I cried / into my soup. I shriveled into / harsh mathematics.
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2097103
|
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.
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2097219
|
to say that he was
doing fine
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209656
|
|
209695
|
During fifth grade, I was called /
closeted queer and tall faggot.
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20953514
|
AFTER DINNER Another cycle gone, wasted. She stares into her bowl of full-fat ice cream (just half a cup a day, every day, for fertility). Beside her sits her husband, building a sundae. When he's done she reaches over, picks the cherry off the top, and hurls it into the…
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209500
|
“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…
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2095157
|
“Black is up, red is down,” I said, knowing he turned to pleasant memories of lawbreaking when he felt discouraged. I asked him to meet me for coffee. He said he hadn’t bought a coffee in a year.
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20941410
|
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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2094114
|
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.
|
209400
|
The next day, John's kneecaps looked like Tennessee Pride Real Country Sausage. The bandage on his head kept coming loose, having to be tucked in, and he was suffering the Stone Mountain of hangovers.
|
20942513
|
I was sitting on the therapist’s couch in someone else’s boxer shorts.
|
209385
|
You may gather from me
the spring of my youth
|
209311
|
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
|
209232
|
I decided this time I’m going right to the end.
|
2092144
|
He had the cannonball head of Hemingway, the stump neck, sloping shoulders and barrel chest.
|
209175
|
You worry that the mullahs suspect us, but that cannot be. We never touch in public. You weep and I shake when a neighbor knocks on the door.
|
20912812
|
|
209096
|
I realized something must be terribly wrong.
|
209011
|
Light was always fucking with you in LA, especially in the afternoon where it possessed a golden hue that could knock you over if you weren’t careful. Its beauty reminded you of what you lacked.
|
20892318
|
a poem about an abduction in my NYC neighborhood
|
208965
|
She believes that this started with a phone call when she walked out of the deli yesterday. She believes that it started when it was snowing this morning in Brooklyn, waiting for her car to arrive, but the truth is, this journey began a long time ago.
|
208954
|
“I don’t see how anybody could do it.”
“I could do it. I could do it because it ought to be done. When a thing needs doing, it’s best to go on and do it.”
|
208983
|
Was I a dreamer? Was I asking for too much?
|
2089193
|
"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.”
|
208971
|
Jacob Obrecht, you are beautiful. Everything inside your head and everything you’ve ever made is beautiful and singing.
|
208865
|
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
|
2088149
|
(I woke once from a bad dream to throw them from the drawer, but my hands were so clammy, the coins stuck to my hand! I had to scrape them off my palm on the edge of the table.)
|
208896
|
Schrödinger did not keep cats about just by accident, and were they keeping an eye on him!
|
20872013
|
A tiny story, 55 words, just enough to fit on a . . .
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