2160 20 18
|
Can you see me dying? 'Not quite',
Said Mummy, 'because it happens
Very slowly all the time.
|
216074
|
Katie loved butterflies. Katie loved daisies. Mainly, Katie loved presents.
|
216001
|
Howard needed to finish this time. As his marriage slid further down the sinkhole toward divorce, it was important to him that his affair be successful.
|
21591211
|
He understood that people no longer read or thought deeply about things but continued to write anyway. He understood that Einstein's theory of relativity was proved correct during the world's longest eclipse of May 29, 1919 when photos of the Hyades star cluster…
|
215821
|
If the photographs made sounds, they would rumble like static from an impending thunderstorm, pressed between the pages of a yellowing dictionary. Compressed sound, searching for the proper words.
|
2158103
|
They slept in the same bed but that was all they had in common. He, an editor, had shelves filled with literary works and she, his wife of many years and never much of a reader, had strewn their penthouse apartment with Madeline children’s books.
|
21582110
|
He grew red-faced at her quiet words, "I'm pregnant."
|
2157177
|
Since the divorce had gone final, the matter settled once and for all, he’d taken to a masochistic bingo of sorts.
|
21571612
|
The day after falling in love,
I became unmoored from everything familiar.
|
215764
|
Sophie is a cat. I tell you this upfront so as not to get you all wound up about moral angst, Nazi's or a mother's love.
|
21571310
|
I try to envision long-haired men riding horses across a vast expanse, their faces blank as those of my students.
|
215721
|
He had no idea about the first three cards - what he would call the flop - which looked dubious and full of danger.
|
215654
|
.... The sun tears through the windshield as if it were an six-foot wide magnifying glass and for a moment it feels to them both as if they are in a manipulated universe of fire and ice, storm and heaven, as it does when the skies crack and spread open a
|
215650
|
In a hot splattering we were born
|
215521
|
The dump smelled of the chaos of creation, of rusting metal and burned glass, chemicals and rancid rainwater, wet cardboard and rotting wood, paint slaking off clapboards and drums.
|
2155149
|
for the rush of longing
and brush with flight
that is her imagination
will surely lift her above the traffic
|
215593
|
I laugh too loud cause the world looks good that way and for a minute we both make funny sounds just to exercise our vocal cords and see how close we can come to the line without crossing.
|
215531
|
"I would physically — not metaphorically, mind you — make love to that avocado..."
|
2155113
|
That summer crawled with them, insects of every denomination: cicadas caught by the cat, wingless, came to rest in the roots of the garden we planted; sudden swarms of dragonflies...
|
2154157
|
I could call him. And be done with this waiting but I refused. I wanted him to not forget me first. To bring himself to remember me first before I'd give him the pleasure of my company.
|
215453
|
You’ve gathered in church to wait for Jesus. Unarguable signs have let you know this is the day. This is the day of the second coming. This is Judgment Day.
It was a no-brainer to wait at the church.
|
215400
|
I’m twenty eight years old, and I am dying.
|
215483
|
Julie studied her brush, plucking a strand of hair from it. She looked up and smiled. "My mother thought you were a peeper."
|
215375
|
That sort of says it all, doesn’t it?
The skirmish for truth must be fought early in the morning.
Lies happen later in the day.
Big lies occur in the night.
And this belongs directly on the surface of time as well:
Alleged shoplifter arrested
|
2153116
|
He rounds his back to stretch again, circles his arms like a ballerina, settles into the couch cushion behind him. “We made plans. Real plans. New York City. Live like bohemians. Fuck like chinchillas.”
|
215300
|
Worldwide, sturdy bells quickly superseded decomposable, and edible, cheese balls as jesters' preferred cap ornaments.
|
215301
|
Luther Mishmash stood numbly in the yard, dumbly staring at the soiled pair of underpants flapping lazily in the breeze on the wash line. Grandpa had wet himself again. Tomorrow, at school, he knew he’d hear about it. Luther wasn’t sure which was more
|
21531613
|
This is self-reflection or self-reflexive writing. Candor but not verse. That is what I write: not-verse. On occasion I write a poem though rarely an occasional poem. Instead of calling it non-fiction we could call it non-verse.
|
215262
|
I pasted a sample paragraph of my writing on the website 'Who do you write like?'.
|
2152176
|
Every time I read a great line by another writer, I feel fear.
|
