1970 21 15
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“Last night the Scots invaded Sweden,” I wrote, “to retrieve the silver filched from the Irish the Norwegians had in their coffers when Sweden conquered. The Swedes offered the Nobel to a Scots writer to keep ... the peace."
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19701611
|
In this episode the children in the classroom will all wear boxes over their heads and will search the room with their hands. Their hands will be hands that have been reconnected. Their hands will wear seams as sleeves and curse in red. The hands that…
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196998
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Turns out it was you. But. You made it into the latest dumping ground in spite of their voted insults. In spite of being told you weren't even going to be around to be danced with. The loneliest girl now looks perfectly trim and trendy to all eyes.…
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19692320
|
There's always a sound, something triggering the fear.
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196921
|
poon fred / loop ilo/ bussy yubb tree
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196993
|
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19691614
|
Snow sheeted on the river...
|
196854
|
You can’t take a chandelier on an emergency dash across a nuclear desert.
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196731
|
I have never met Joe’s brother, of course.
|
196773
|
His wings were down when he got into the truck. It was a used UPS truck we’d bought from someone in Berkeley, and we painted out the letter “S,” so that it just read “UP.”
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1967119
|
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19672713
|
This is not a story you expect to end at Cape Horn.
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196721
|
“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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196755
|
|
19671310
|
I talk wands and magic and how women aren't supposed to care,
but I do, and she talks length and girth.
Her fiancé has neither,
she makes an illustration with her pinky
and says that if they don't marry within the year,
she's dumping his ass
and we
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196771
|
In a few brief moments the entire sky became full of this wetness and greyed to the point of almost blackening, and it was a Sunday morning, and the man thought that thoughts were strange things, because he had a piercing epiphany that there was no God..
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196742
|
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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1966134
|
--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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1966116
|
The voices he hears are God and the Devil and he knows the difference. Therefore, he is not mentally ill.
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196642
|
Dale of the threadbare corduroy blazer and the same two plaid button-down shirts, of the unkempt beard and short-shorn hair and holed ears, the plugs overloose and then lost so that the effect was not a toughening edginess, but deformity, the same self-in
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196662
|
No, she hated the vain, overweight, pathetic, glass-of-merlot-a-day, SUV piloting, Carmen-cell-phone-ring-toned, housewives and consumer sluts that charged through the store like starving hyenas through the fallen, decaying, putrid, corpses of a plague-ri
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1966117
|
When I got out I didn't buy a new suit of clothes, step into a bar, or bargain for an hour with a whore.
|
19661911
|
No snippet to see, here. The piece is so short a snippet would be the whole thing.
|
196621
|
It’s always daylight there
My brother comes running down the sidewalk
holding out his arms and calling my name
He’s wearing suspenders. He’s gotten thinner
in heaven
He embraces me warmly
wanting us to be friends
I give up trying to re
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196641
|
Approaching the kitchen from the foyer the reverb lessened until heel and floor where flint on flint. No spark was made.
|
196643
|
...I grew up in a provincial town which at the time had no bookstore and no library — no library even at school...
|
196688
|
The trouble began in October, when Ava, an embittered receptionist who worked at a small museum housed in a five-story Westside brownstone, discovered that the floors were littered with enormous grey feathers
|
19662618
|
sooner or later you realize
|
196533
|
|
196500
|
At night, on these New England roads, there is no light, no pink sodium-vapor glow, no guideposts.
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