2088 17 14
|
When you move to the music of a woman
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20873013
|
I had felt suddenly lighter and next thing I knew I was watching Leonard Tucker and Sister William from somewhere near the ceiling. I saw myself, too, at my desk, holding my songbook out in front of me like everyone else.
|
208721
|
Standing hard at the windowCold clouds move, slowBlue horizon in the distance—It's just a slice of blue.All this beautyI miss it in the bitterness.I'm consumed by the missingThe emptinessThe unfairnessAlways some unfairness cropping upand capturing joy.Glancing high…
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208674
|
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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20861615
|
• Don’t confuse the virtues of bananas with the virtues of banana bread
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208672
|
A lowing cow cracked open the darkened room like the yawn of a gravid alien.
|
208650
|
Besides, that might have been the area of his birth, and if so, Jacob was now the director, priest, pallbearer, driver, and custodian of a hometown funeral
|
208683
|
When you last produced writing on a manual typewriter, was it before or after your first sexual experience, or maybe during? Manual or otherwise. Which do you recall with more enthusiasm...
|
20852416
|
Veiled by tenuous clouds and dirty air,
|
208554
|
Often we sit in silence and age. We are observers of dust, fashioning ourselves into antiques.
|
208511
|
“They picked me up in their spaceship about noon,” Austin Grantham says to me while pulling up an apple crate to use as a stool.
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20852315
|
proving little more/
than the player’s keyboard dexterity.
|
208522
|
Most nights while in his sleep, with his one good eye deeply shut, the old man can hear the whispers of the specter in the remote wanderings, holding the surrounding woodlands in its snare. The sound of it closing in, with the bones of the universe crushing in…
|
208521
|
A pale face was illuminated by the street light. A voice rasped, “Charlie?”
“Do I know you?”
“It's Bill.”
The side of his little brother's thin face
|
208541
|
I think theorems and hypotheses
but all that comes out is punching and smashing
frustrated hate flows where I'd prefer to know love.
|
208400
|
Azure walked through the fog as though she were walking to class. Her hands swayed through the mist and felt the thickness of the cloud through her fingers
|
2084127
|
It was only when blood began to drip onto the page that he realized he'd been hit.
|
208488
|
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
|
2084199
|
I screwed my courage to the sticking point and asked him if he had shot down any Japanese airplanes. He grinned at me. “One,” he said.
|
208495
|
. . . the greater length of the so-called “Montebaldi Corridor” can still be walked without the least exposure to direct sunlight as long as the traveler is not active from 9 am to 3 pm local time.
|
20831013
|
pluck me from the charred grate
|
2083247
|
I watched as the light fled
from your eyes,
No slowly dimming lamp,
|
208353
|
Once upon a time, my friend and I met a nanny pushing a baby carriage and reading an e-book. She wore a plaid dress, blue stockings and a white barrette. A set of wrinkles marred her tanned brow. Multitasking seemed too hard on her.
Inside the carriage
|
2083137
|
|
2083157
|
the boredom inherent in living in the suburbs
|
208363
|
“Now God,” Mr. Smashface calls me out by name.
|
208311
|
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.
|
20822612
|
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.
|
2082125
|
|
208294
|
And I watched,
from her warm bed,
the curtains dancing
in the window
|
