1914 16 13
|
I am a purveyor of leeches. All my
friends are purveyors of leeches.
We meet weekly to compare our wares.
|
1914153
|
He stopped the shower and recounted his life, now Kin-less and plain.
|
19142610
|
I avert my gaze to the crab grass pushing through broken concrete, the spent condoms, the empty vodka nips rolling at her stockinged feet...
|
191373
|
Forget Ulysses, life itself is a stream of consciousness if you ever have time to get out of the stream and take a look at it. And there’s nothing that gets you out of the stream like a short sharp shock.
|
1913145
|
She asks if I would like to join them.
|
19131314
|
I don't know if we'll meet again in the sea of light. Circumstances aren't only up to human beings. After all maybe it's all drunk circumstance, but that doesn't answer the blinding question, it only poses some more. This is…
|
19121911
|
No snippet to see, here. The piece is so short a snippet would be the whole thing.
|
191200
|
At night, on these New England roads, there is no light, no pink sodium-vapor glow, no guideposts.
|
191254
|
I would be reduced to begging on the streets and hoping for a sign of her in soup lines.
|
1912105
|
The waters rose / on the earth
|
191273
|
Like all professors, I'm required to maintain office hours to help my students so I'm at my desk every fourth Tuesday of months without an "r" in them from 10:30 to 11:00 p.m.
|
191288
|
The moon begins to rise over L.A.
while the roaches try to crawl up
the sides of the mountains surrounding the L.A. Basin.
While fires rage in the forests of the night,
here comes the moon over the horizon,
big and haunted, pock-marked and coo
|
191140
|
When the talking's done, they get in their cars to go wherever they go, and just as soon as that last car clears the path, the yellow-cabbed trucks are back and the men get out.
|
191199
|
I'm not interested in her that way.
|
191152
|
On some evenings, when I would sneak out of my room, I'd sit on the verandah and count the streetlights. I'd count the stars in the sky and trace the moon with the tip of my finger and consider how anyone could make it through the night when there were so
|
19112713
|
This is not a story you expect to end at Cape Horn.
|
191164
|
Sophie is a cat. I tell you this upfront so as not to get you all wound up about moral angst, Nazi's or a mother's love.
|
1911206
|
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.
|
191176
|
Butch the Labradoodle sets some necessary boundaries.
|
191193
|
The headlines were my source of information and contact. Four Soldiers Killed in Baghdad read one. Seven Ambushed in Fallujah. I’d read them, look for his name, and maybe clip it out. It put me there; put me in touch with him.
|
1911108
|
hooves moon dark latch eyes rope / Bess the landlord's daughter, the landlord's blackeyed daughter / gun breasts dress shame shouts blood blood blood
|
1911117
|
He was her summer fling, the first cock to crow when the sun rose over her tequila smile.
|
191050
|
Please direct your attention to the flight attendants as they demonstrate the safety features of this aircraft.
|
191031
|
“Tonight’s news begins with a Stone’s Throw exclusive. Intimate friends of hotel heiress Paris Hilton have confided that the talent-starved celebrity has agreed to marry Quaker Bob, longtime spokesperson and package icon for Quaker Oats cereal.
|
191021
|
“What about this shirt?” “I didn't know Gap had an ‘approaching middle age pimp' department.” “So… no?” “Yeah. No.” “Approaching middle age?” “So…” “So?” “Soooooo…”…
|
191020
|
She spilled her neurons across the dissecting board of the violin, breathed deep and forced herself outward with every exhalation. Her molecules mixed with wax and horsehair, and her heart valves arched in unison.
|
19101714
|
When you move to the music of a woman
|
191000
|
The man in the gray trench coat showed up around a quarter to eight.
|
191099
|
I don't think dogs like to die with the pack.
The smell of them rotting brings trouble in the wild,
|
1909123
|
I read the ending to her and it was clear to her--clear as it could only be to a woman, to a woman you're in love with--that I had been describing her.
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