1916 13 11
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that moon does not think (unless mineral thoughts) . . .
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19151512
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The man had come up behind me and locked my arms backwards. I could feel his cock or gun against my low back. He told me if I moved he'd hurt me and he said did I know what that meant? I did know, however I was watching from…
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191522
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one numberless character, an army of rants marching one by one, sand by sand, we move mountains this way…
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19152118
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There can be no convergence./
There is only the talking that talks about/
an angle of sight nothing else can share.
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19153017
|
It was a surprise they put me in a dormitory, not a cell,
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191522
|
In those days everyone ate poetry for lunch. It was considered essential for your good up-bringing and mental health. We would skip a meal in order to satisfy our hunger for words. To hell with a meal. To hell with dirty politics and meaningless wars on o
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191586
|
no one else comes in my back door but you
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1915116
|
You haven't lived until she dances just for you ..
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191521
|
I saw a former lover today, by complete accident.
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191442
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Here’s the story as compiled from the scantest of clues: The writing on the back of a stall door in the restroom of a twenty-four hour restaurant under the Gowanus Expressway.
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19142612
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In her belief that Juni is lucky, Jade eases the horrors our mother suffers at night, not because Juni is stuck in a physical passion, but because the whole family and whole groups of strangers know what Juni is doing for sex.
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191421
|
“Jus’ because a story told right don’t make it true,” he said. “Sometimes the story is there ain’t no story. Sometimes you look way down inside, and ain’t nuthin’ there. Can’t write no book ‘bout nuthin’. Won’t sell none. But them
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191442
|
When you finally got blood from the hard stick
You spotted the backflash of red
And said Thank God. The woman’s legs and arms
Were everywhere, and you were in the middle
Holding her down with one hand while wielding
A butterfly in the other. You stuc
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19141514
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I see those shoes and the status they confer, and I know what they cost.
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191310
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For Hector it was animals. Rats, dogs, fish, and quite often horses – sometimes even lions. But for Achilles, it was always dead bodies.
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191311
|
May as well have lived two lives, he thinks: one before memory and one after. And how can you remember someone else's life? You can't. After forty years of living, he realizes that there's no way of knowing what his own eyes have witnessed.
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191311
|
A 1960’s of walking sugar beet fields to remove the rogue bolters by hand and on other days painting the ironwork of cattle sheds with red oxide. Then a 1970’s when the self-inking explosion of tattoos on his hands and then his body began.
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191320
|
A black wind raced ahead of the Merbreth and Juko could smell the thing's fur, matted with the blood of men. The coppery scent mingled with the fear coming off the men around him, a fear so palpable it became a tangible thing, something to be tripped over
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191320
|
One day they will take what remains of my eyes so someone else can use them to see beauty, someone who will value them more than I have, someone who will be strong enough to keep them pointed away from ugly things.
|
191370
|
Who is the moron that invented the Snuggie?
|
191274
|
She began guiding Penny’s arms, whispering movements through her body. Memory and experience sang through every fiber of their being. The song had become her life.
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191261
|
At some point, Spiro thinks, everyone must look like a sniper.
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19121615
|
• Don’t confuse the virtues of bananas with the virtues of banana bread
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191234
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Out the window is an empty birdbath, dry flaky concrete ring, no birds.
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19123626
|
I watch my mother and my daughter, each wondering in her own quiet way about where this story will go next.
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1911134
|
--How's the wriiting business? How about that thing you' was workin' on..."Gawain's Green Nights?"
--Yeah, well, I'm kind of off the soft-core...
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191122
|
That's when we struggle, got it? Right there on the floor. It's not the brawl of the century, and I'm not the pilot who delivers the Enola Gay.
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19113313
|
There was dad sitting at the table, wide awake, reading glasses on nose, pen in hand above a Doppler graph of numbers on paper, one of many now-lost theorems, looking up as his son walked into the room.
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191162
|
You longed to rip off her butterfly wings and watch her scream in agony. You ached to carve the steel from her eyes.
|
191113
|
While I didn’t like to see Courtney swat smokes out of his mouth and admonish him, saying “Cigarettes. Bad. Fire. Bad,” her home was such a beautiful place, with its real wood and two TV and all...
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