2174 22 16
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My mother used to say she'll be just like you and you‘ll deserve it. I was a Punk Rocker. A rebel. Emily worries about things like grades and sports. She's on the soccer team. I got stoned under the bleachers. Emily, is a good kid. …
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217411
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. . . hands before your face, heart without blood . . .
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217493
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I love how you touch me, your hands warm on my shape...
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2173116
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The voices he hears are God and the Devil and he knows the difference. Therefore, he is not mentally ill.
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217385
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As long as he could still take the stairs, he would go down there to be with the memories that each piece held. He knew that their time was about up, because his was too. His wife had already gone, and even before that she had long stopped using the washe
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217311
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you wear the warmth of death/
and your heat eternity/
blasts on mourn from your heart
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217332
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He wasn’t there for the beginning or the end. In the beginning, he was still a wild thing. Nothing more than a voice in the chorus of the Dark Continent, back when it was a thing of terrible beauty and attracted people like the old man; people who breathe
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217373
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Already, I can see that, whenever Harold moves, some of his soul escapes, like an accidental exhalation, like breath on powder.
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217241
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Approaching the kitchen from the foyer the reverb lessened until heel and floor where flint on flint. No spark was made.
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217255
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217222
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Why is the ghost of John Lennon haunting a house in rural Oregon?
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21721613
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no one likes a bitchy cowboyhike up yer britchespull yer brim down'nshut up and ridestop making petsout of peevesand idolsout of gossipinsteadmake a hobbyout of yer horseand fer godsakesseason that saddle
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217286
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His middle name was Perceval. He judged the first Miss America contest in 1922. He saw himself primarily as a storyteller in the Dickensian mode.He claimed to be an illustrator rather than an artist. He disliked driving but loved to walk, and preferred…
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217184
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... we both know how we go to fresh air like fish, gasping.
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217142
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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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217111
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I rummage around to see which of our many countertop appliances might do the trick. Yogurt maker? No, I need something with more muscle.
The Cuisinart--just the thing! I pick through the detachable blades—where’s the isotope shredder?
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2170105
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I scare my daughter when she sleeps because she thinks I'm going to kill her.
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2170127
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It was only when blood began to drip onto the page that he realized he'd been hit.
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217000
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On the other side of the world the Moon spun on its way.
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2170169
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Sometimes you can't sleep.
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217086
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Len and I sit on Harpo's porch, drink beer and gab. It's hot, even for July. Len and I joke and laugh, and Harpo stares off into the middle distance.
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216942
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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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2169255
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" Not a day goes by/ that isn't stabbed with common sorrow"--Maurice Manning Crazy's alright by me if it's a harmless plea for some little sanity, or unavoidable by birth but it just won't do for tricks. Like say I go over there right…
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2169206
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The book has known many women’s hands, something erotic and frequently checked out from our local library. Its cover depicts a man and a woman, both with improbable if not impossible bodies. I believe the term is bodice-ripper.
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216954
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You can’t take a chandelier on an emergency dash across a nuclear desert.
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216910
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I am wearing stolen socks. Not because I haven't any of my own, and not because they are an exact fit. Only because they soothe my emptiness inside.
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216986
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no one else comes in my back door but you
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216864
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I put my arms around her and whisper to her while she plays the piano. She wiggles and tells me to stop it.
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216880
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The trainers looked at her and smiled and they were still one creature with four legs and two heads. The old man’s left eye moved in sync with the younger one’s right eye.
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216822
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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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