1875 7 4
|
Why can't you mimic your mythical counterpart? Anna Karenina? Have you never considered the tall dark stranger? The boot to the face, the fangs on the neck? Vronsky is Russian Gentry, a veritable prince and he swept that Anna off her feet in two sec
|
1875117
|
He was her summer fling, the first cock to crow when the sun rose over her tequila smile.
|
187532
|
Oh, you can’t stay, your poetry/
Is still out in the world, maybe when you die/Your volumes will make their way/Not just here but
everywhere
|
18741715
|
When you prime tobacco the old way . . .
|
187463
|
Cap'n Pepper tries and tries but Old Salty is never happy.
|
18742016
|
Just bring me his head, that cerebral kiln of hot, ruddy verbiage and cadence.
|
187461
|
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
|
1874178
|
I kiss his sunburned nose, so nice under the beach house. We hear the shower of palm leaves like wings getting ready. We talk about a time we'll no longer know each other, when he'll be sad in a bar in another state, slipping and sliding and petting lost dogs in the parking…
|
187400
|
I, personally, just had no interest in having some pimply-faced moron stick his tongue down my throat.
|
187444
|
If Single Stroke Seven were a cocktail, it would be a Bloody Mary made of one part Worcestershire sauce, the other part gas station vodka, and ketchup and hot sauce packets swiped from fast food joints. Chill with ice crystals chiseled off freezer walls,
|
187320
|
The phone rang. Pete wiped his heavy eyes and squinted so he could see. He looked at the clock. It was five o’clock in the morning. He rolled over and tucked his head under his pillow. The phone rang again. He ignored it. It rang again. He picked up.
|
1873105
|
I never killed a cop before.
|
18721711
|
She drew her hands out of the chest cavity and looked at the clock.
‘Time of death,’ she said.
|
187276
|
His toenails were so long they curled under and into the black leathery pads of his feet. They lightly clacked on our linoleum, tap shoes made of thick petrified roots. He didn't seem to mind.
|
1872117
|
On the bank of the stream, we take off our clothes and dash into the water.
|
187200
|
Dear Bess —
I go to the First Assembly of God's church. (a Praising Spirit-Filled Fellowship.) It is in Maui. Dr. James Morocco, Senior Pastor. He has been pastoring the church for over twenty years.
My, what a big change I am finding in my new l
|
18722310
|
An Ayurvedic astrologer tells her that she is a child of India. Is a girl born in Indiana a mistake of just two letters on a Scrabble board?
|
187221
|
...I told Uncle Lou I thought it (trans-gendering) looked like a thoughtful way of occupying the world. It was a personal triumph, for some individuals, over the destructive affects of denial. Besides, it hurt no one, and it didn’t destroy property. I alw
|
18721314
|
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…
|
187163
|
No flinch, no stretch, no letting the cook get all golden about the chopping block.
|
18712416
|
I stared out the window, the fog creeped up the Avenues like a spectator.
|
187100
|
The stupid suit made me look like an angel, which I hated. I wasn't here to save anyone's soul, not that any of the native animal life HAD a soul. If I have a soul myself, it is most likely in need of salvation, and in no way should I be cast in the rol
|
187123
|
I believe in theCollective conscienceOf Mankind Whatever the masses wantComes into fruitionSome genius will create itIf we want warWe will get warWe don't want peaceSo we never get itJust consider The smartphoneWhat a great deviceIt seems as if we should neverBe bored…
|
187054
|
Jacabo gave the boy a can of beer with oxycontin and rat poison in it. He instructed the boy to drink and talk. Jacabo did this, fully aware that making ghosts was a costly enterprise.
|
187030
|
|
1870104
|
"I sighed heavily. 'Goddamn it...' I spat under my breath. 'Every motherfucking time..."
|
18701315
|
We wonder if this is how we tangled in our mother's womb: hands to feet to heart.
|
18701912
|
He held my little hand in his and guided it through the dirt.
|
187010
|
Morpheus dreams… […fairground atmosphere burlesque hand-operated steam organs calliopes cut and spliced reversed harmonium kaleidoscopic grotesque waltzing carousel…] PABLO FANQUE'S CIRCUS ROYAL Grandest Night of the Season! and positively the LAST NIGHT BUT THREE! being…
|
187097
|
the observation, at the end, more/
important than the being there—
|
