2145 6 3
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I slide my hand under the sheets. It’s cool there. An impression. This is where she would be.
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214560
|
Maybelline Jones is my sister, my friend, and I try to tell her the right way to be.
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214511
|
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.
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214521
|
Harry Reed does not want to die in this room, in front of Giselle, who has been his wife for exactly six months, who has slept beside him for twelve months.
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214564
|
burning for You, caught in between, yearning to remain completely wrapped around Your finger, feeling panoramic, and this alive.
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214521
|
It was a subtle change. Jeffrey's grandmother was never graceful. Her figure was like a garbage bag filled with rounded masses of leaves and the unexpected angle of the odd stick, the entire shambling affair draped in soiled and yellowed hand-knit clothing…
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2144910
|
I get out of the pitstop at the reststop, wade through parking lot hiphop. Hummers with Jesus Luvs George W bumper stickers, and a subdued slow hurricane of dour obese women in powder blue and tepid brown walking about the place like zombies. And I see t
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21443514
|
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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214354
|
“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.”
|
2143175
|
I turn my head. Time starts running.
|
214200
|
The palm trees bent upon her passing stride
From fishnet stockings running up her hide;
|
21422012
|
burnt-up leaves rustle and fall
|
21421915
|
"You're publishing too much too / quickly. We think that's unhealthy. We want you / to slow down. You're becoming a fame whore."
|
214140
|
He had what was commonly referred to in junior high as the ‘bullshit mustache’.
|
21411512
|
This is the best kind of crime scene.
Spattered like gore from gunshots,
I'm left covered in trace evidence.
|
2141183
|
Male genitals were usually portrayed diminutively in classical art. After forty minutes in a drafty room without cloths on, I was beginning to understand why.
|
2140146
|
No beeping of horns, just complete silence. No panic, just calmness. There’s this one word: serendipity.
|
214021
|
Lee found a ship’s figurehead in a dumpster behind some shitty Indian restaurant last night.
|
21402117
|
There is a tall and leafy tree in our backyard. Also a bride, a groom, and a chicken.
|
2140125
|
We left Louisville two weeks after daddy died...
|
214000
|
Trunks of plane trees with parchment bark, their shaggy pillars bear a canopy of green like a great tent spread over the square of the park. Cool misting lawn sprinklers, their umbral spay--brick walks glisten in the mottled light. Fading blooms of rhodo
|
2140108
|
The girl put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in cupped hands and this was for comfort but she appeared symmetrical the way an etheric visitor might and the brightness was just then trying to find a way through an opening in morning dining room…
|
21391410
|
. . . and the last thing you’ll smell will be new-cut pine.
|
2139128
|
The juice that stays on my neck when you tip me back, catching me in an alleyway, holding me upright as the oranges tumble and strike the backs of my knees. You cup your strong-smelling, sticky-soft fingers around my ear and say let's blow this city.
|
213993
|
The year I lick so much windowpane off stamps I have to use Elmer's glue to back the twenty-center for a postcard cash request to my mother, that I am alive note at the end of term, is the year of all the "wine" parties.
"Wine" is what we put down
|
21391613
|
The Bond Trader begins his morning with coffee and a hit of LSD.
|
21383211
|
Jane watched her mother remove her wedding ring with butter.
|
213871
|
It was a sloppy little factory town that could be beautiful, but never bothered trying. Sits on a big lake. More bars than churches, and too many of both. Racist. We hated anybody who didn’t believe in white Jesus
|
213694
|
You have been my woman’s lover now for
seven years, ever since your two souls met
at La Isla Negra.
|
213644
|
"a.k.a. I-D-I-O-T" (The Hives).
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