2165 5 2
|
this one was abandoned... a splinter left under the skin, pushed out by protective flesh
|
216552
|
The storm grew in might until it spawned the worst kind of tornado, an F-5 or Finger of God.
|
216592
|
“Dad’s a dick,” my sister said. I nodded. He threw $20 on the candy counter for one small bag of popcorn and told the girl to keep the change.
|
216561
|
I can feel the souls
of those who perished
here
They’re still here
like old kites
hanging in the sky
tattered, but they
won’t come down
or can’t come down
just yet
because they haven’t
fulfilled their
unborn promises
t
|
216530
|
...it was just my heart stnging through my eyes...
|
21652115
|
“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."
|
216585
|
I could love them all, your people, /
Learn their differences, speak their tongues, /
When there is no one there to hold you /
But me, my arms would be wide enough /
To hold armies of your need. Do not forget.
|
216596
|
All of those lovelies, pitched on the ground, ignored and ready to rot.
|
2164122
|
...a blunt thrust of a face, uncongenial in profile, and the ubiquitous green cap that says John Deere, with the yellow ideogram of a deer for graduates of our local schools.
|
216465
|
We didn't wear shoes in the summer, except for Sunday school and church. The soles of our feet were black and tough as shoe leather.
|
21641617
|
what smells like love may not be love at all
|
2164116
|
Down South now means August cold snap,
the forties roaring my wool cap
off my head.
|
216498
|
Birds FlySeven Poemsby Darryl Pricefor Charlotte and Mel, as always"We should insist on joy in spite of everything."--Tom Robbins“I don't need your love. I don't need you to understand. I just need you to listen.”—Perfume Genius1. I Want to Sing to…
|
216463
|
Danny said that you like him now. He smiled like it was the best news that he could give me, but his eyes dared me. …
|
216488
|
I know now, how she moves without verbs
after you crushed her into the river.
|
21632018
|
|
216321
|
“Cheng Ho didn’t go just Cape Horn; treasure ships visit Australia and America. His very advanced compass. Not just point north-south. Show east-west too.”
|
21632912
|
Night fell and the photographer slept, one hand between Prue's legs.
|
216300
|
[continued from part one...]After sweeps, my schoolwork started to slip. I had trouble paying attention in class, and my workbooks and tests came back from the teacher marked in ketchup red ink. I had always been a good student, and this academic…
|
2163104
|
"I sighed heavily. 'Goddamn it...' I spat under my breath. 'Every motherfucking time..."
|
2162104
|
Ma tells me not to put a tampon between my legs. For fear of cotton fornication.
|
21622514
|
Did we get Jihadi John?/
And the highway to Mosul?//
What’s the score?
|
21621710
|
When I squint at her from across the table I can see the waveforms created by her carrier signal.
|
216201
|
“I heard your dad took out the Dairy Queen drive-thru,” said Pat.
|
216274
|
When they called him down there to the morgue to identify the body, he drove behind the wheel of his truck like some steady maniac on a long haul. The Ford 150 cried out for new shocks, but that hardly mattered. Mud plastered side panels and…
|
216154
|
Often we sit in silence and age. We are observers of dust, fashioning ourselves into antiques.
|
216185
|
On the table the image is by Chardin but the puzzle is by someone else and that is what he has dumped out of the box.
|
216100
|
Oryn woke up in her desk. Sweat trickled from her forehead. Staring at her notepad, with her latest calculation, she forgot to go home. Her thoughts of Alysia calmed for now, but still lingered from her dreams.
|
2161157
|
the boredom inherent in living in the suburbs
|
216100
|
The number 25 double-decker bus threads its way through the narrow two-lane streets. Coughing and burping without a hint of embarrassment, it carries us from the train station, with its cheerful round clockface and neat front of red brick, over the weepin
|
