1542 3 4
|
My tongue is clicking.
I want to act out.
I want an unprofessional bargain.
|
154285
|
I read the last line and close the book with a smack. “That ends that section,” I tell him. “Coming up is the chapter titled ‘The Ancient History of the Sewers of Paris.'
|
15421712
|
Conceptio culpa
Nasci pena
Labor vita
Necesse mori
|
154211
|
True love may last forever, but the most I've ever gotten out of a lab assistant is two years, five months, three weeks, twelve days, and fifteen hours. And he was the exception.
|
15412013
|
You died from a bad heart.
|
154164
|
My cousin had put them up last year, showed me when we stood on her bed as her fingers pointed, traced over the outlines, then turned out the lights, so that I could see them glow.
|
15412718
|
1. The ghost that photographs my wife and me has a peculiar sense of lighting. In this one, we are sitting at the kitchen table of our old apartment. The table is made of glass. There is nothing on the table except our elbows. She has lowered her head between her…
|
154074
|
You want to read, you know where to click.
|
154010
|
I've been invited to speak at Emerson College in Boston—it will be the summer of 2012, and I'll be speaking on running an online literary magazine; in this case, my own, Anderbo.com.
|
154097
|
I’ve been such a fool, so reckless and untrue.
|
15401814
|
There are no city-chewed streets,/
only white and lilac blooming dogwood trees.
|
154033
|
“I don’t want to scare you,” the stewardess says, “but there are ten police officers waiting for you outside the plane.”
I reach into the diaper bag and grab an Elmo raspberry/pear cereal bar, rip it open, take a bite, sip some apple juice fr
|
154095
|
I envisioned bound feet of ancient Asian women who wore embroidered slippers that hid grotesque disfigurements.
|
153972
|
I want separate twilight
a room with no candles, plates, phones or music
a glass ceiling to smash when my head's full
I want tiny hand-
|
153974
|
Start with a long look down the alley, a small hoodied figure turning in.
|
153963
|
“Now God,” Mr. Smashface calls me out by name.
|
1539126
|
The tadpoles flipped on the brown mud bottom. She dipped one out and held it near, seeing it in her belly, shaping arms and feet and a small, blond head. She set it back and stood, breasts out, arms up. The ducks in the weed, eyes hard like hungry boys, waited for bread.…
|
153993
|
His worst nightmare had come true. He wasn't wearing green and all of the other kids were.
|
153983
|
My resistance sublimates. There is a long instant of absolute relinquishment, in which I imagine droplets of water plinking into my lungs in a slow, musical fashion, like icicles melting in a perfect cave.
|
15391813
|
—Was it true, what you wrote in that poem?
—Pretty true.
—What do you mean “pretty true”? Was it true or wasn’t it?
—It was as close as you get to truth in poems.
|
153872
|
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. …
|
153842
|
|
153887
|
Before he was Francesco Martinelli
|
153897
|
"... I knew Willie had gone— out the back door or out the side window. I knew he probably slipped over the fence behind my house into Lou C.’s backyard..."
|
153800
|
His hands were like that when he was born. No one really understood why. Neither of his parents had any body parts made of oats. Neither of them had even eaten any oats the morning the conception took place. But sure enough, when Edwin MacGrain was born o
|
153865
|
I am in the bad habit of telling people they are the scum of the earth.
|
153732
|
Put blisters on your fingers and
Put plasters on your head but
Put peppers on your privates and
You’ll wish that you were dead!
|
153731
|
The Happy Bunny Family had a secret: They weren't very happy.Everyone in town knew it, but of course no one said anything. Mr. Happy Bunny would stroll through the center of town on his way to work and people would smile and nod and wish him a good day and he would return…
|
153721
|
It was too young to be love.
We were 5,
a buzz-cut me,
and you,
plated with babyteeth
|
153631
|
"Not a fan?" Beth asks, feeling a sliver of happiness move through her. He furrows his brow. "Then what brings you here?"
"I'm here to pick up girls," Steve says simply. "Want to hit the buffet table? Want to run away to Mexico?"
|
