2356 0 1
|
“Do you ever read writingand wish that it was about you?That you caused the epic fucking swell of emotions?That you were the only one capable of the rescue? Do you ever read writingand feel it so intensely?Like every word is an angry and desperate misfiring…
|
2356123
|
The City Council supports this policy and, by necessity, ranks human slavery very low on the list of the city’s woes.
|
235688
|
Lucky bastard, he gets Glamour Puss and I get lady wrestler who's giving off the vibe she'll bludgeon me to death with her Bible if I make one false move.
|
23562812
|
At some point, we will have to shoot them/
through the eyes and skull and heart
|
2356143
|
Tyler has a Mars bar in his jeans pocket. It’s warm and soft. He tries to insert it.
|
235582
|
"Michael has had no drink, no cigarette, no illicit drug and very little illicit sex since September 14, 1989."
|
23542114
|
|
235499
|
feeling obligated to write/ is like feeling/ obligated to fuck.
|
2354147
|
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.
|
23532111
|
" trout hovered in a sun-dappled pool"
|
235364
|
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.
|
235321
|
It was too young to be love.
We were 5,
a buzz-cut me,
and you,
plated with babyteeth
|
235100
|
Azure leaned on the wall outside the gymnasium. She pulled back the sleeve of her blouse and saw the shackle glow. Azure realized that her feet dragged across the ground, leaving behind straight-line grooves on the grass beside the sidewalk.
|
23512824
|
The locals cut stone in quarries, built elevators at the Cummins plant in Columbus, or brewed shine back in the hills between Bean Blossom and Gnaw Bone.
|
235111
|
He didn’t know how to tell his story. It wasn’t an easy story to tell. There certainly was a clear beginning, but it didn’t make much sense to start at the beginning. There was no way to end the story either; the ending seemed to last forever.
|
23502111
|
“When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.”
|
235031
|
It was the end of a New York City summer, the heat and humidity thick all around. But in her body it was an unforgiving winter, the memory of pain always leaving her cold
|
23502422
|
But I came back around, after Robert Kennedy got shot, with one hand up your skirt and the other on the gear shift...
|
234985
|
Watch me sleep. Say I'm lovely, marbled-white. Pretend my forest is other to me. Pretend I am what you have made me. The sugar-almond starlet. Your virgin. Your treasure to break into. Believe me unconscious. It is you who are the dreamer. Look how those thorny…
|
234923
|
I am remembering this day for all days. Remembering. All days. Always. This is the day you threw the TV out the upstairs window. I'm remembering. Always. This is the day that started with you shaking the toaster over me so all the crumbs fell out.…
|
234821
|
In the blue of the yard the twins boil and scrape,
twisting about beneath the sycamore tree.
|
234765
|
Daniel told himself to push. -- push harder than he'd ever pushed himself before. He reminded himself of what his father once told him: don't give in to pain. Be a real man. You can take it.
|
234742
|
My ghost has already been places I'll never see.
|
23471913
|
old men with crispy sunburnt ears
|
2347178
|
They are running the bulls in Pamplona
this afternoon and they have no idea
how to do this and they are
way too old for this
and they want to relive their youth
and run the bulls in Pamplona
They want to drink like Ernest Hemingway
and run
|
234672
|
Sylvia Plath killed herself while her children slept upstairs, breakfast ready at their doors. Anne Sexton wanted to do it, but Sylvia got there first, making Anne just a little less remarkable, although she tried often enough, her death like a song put on repeat. …
|
2346147
|
All week my crew and I waited for the snuff party. An obscure fete where someone gets killed strictly for the entertainment and viewing pleasure of others. Before you judge us know this, people die every day for no reason at all.
|
234600
|
A behind the scenes look at the character designs of the Arcana Magi Universe.
|
2346116
|
Your opal eyesYour sea-blue eyesYour sky-blue eyesYour ice-blue eyesYour gray-blue eyes, your periwinklesYour hazel eyesYour violet eyes(almond-shaped and almost cubist)Your indigo eyesYour topaz eyes, your sunkissed lashesYour turtle-sundae eyes.I loved your black shiny…
|
23462318
|
a poem about an abduction in my NYC neighborhood
|
