1064 7 6
|
the late snow, though not welcomed...
|
224 0 0
|
Superfluous and petite, she closes her eyes, acts like they are open. She thinks she's Marlene Dietrich, contemplates Erotica involving Vincent Price riffing an electric accordian. She has no knowledge of perfection, rendering her perfect by default. She is…
|
1330 18 16
|
March 16, 2006 My mail, e-mail, and phone calls go from the ridiculous to the sublime. Apologies for the cliché, but I can't resist its perfect applicability: In my mailbox today yet another catalogue of boob jobs in bikinis and an invitation to explore…
|
1370 11 10
|
Over his usual ham sandwich and Pepsi for lunch Uncle Waldo used to often say, “Going out in the dead of night without a flashlight is dangerous” and I'd nod but I kept slipping out, sneaking down my secret path and take a dip in the rich neighbor's pool because…
|
1168 0 0
|
Sora and Ciel stood before Dean Morden inside his office. It felt weird to the girls looking at him sitting behind Madam Mayweather’s desk
|
1276 14 8
|
Little tech puppies, well compensated for code/
that outsourced laborers will realize in supercheap,/
superchipped gewgaws, sip artisan beers
|
1211 4 4
|
Betrayal of course is the great human crime. As I found out when . . . .
|
1237 5 5
|
I have a ninety two percent rejection rate.
|
960 4 4
|
What I’ve got is
priceless,
but no one
wants it.
Hmmm.
I wonder if
I can
give it away,
or have to
haul it to the
dump?
What I have is priceless.
Priceless.
What I have
is priceless,
but no one wants it.
|
1992 1 1
|
"This is where the children play," the woman said cheerily.
She gestured toward the flat bed of a pickup truck. The edge was surrounded by a makeshift wooden fence that looked like it had been made out of old orange crates.
|
1239 8 7
|
How many shadows in your soul? Close your eyes, my love, let me / make you blind as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.
|
1293 13 11
|
the world slips under the waves
|
1629 8 7
|
Before he was Francesco Martinelli
|
1093 5 5
|
this bleeding sun, clove studded & seedless
|
1466 9 10
|
When we were seventeen, after her dad, the preacher, finished his Sunday night church services that required our mandatory attendance, we'd walk to my car in the pasture-turned parking lot holding hands and stop at the passenger-side car door to kiss deeply, get…
|
1912 26 22
|
This test should not be a riddle, it's a simple yes/no. The answer should settle curiosity with an image. One line or two, plus or minus. I say something like this, and the customer service rep asks me to hold.Thing is, I know the answer. I'm moody. My breasts feel like…
|
1017 4 2
|
the silence of the hardwood floors
blisters into fragments
|
1090 5 5
|
|
221 2 1
|
Like sun-stream through a spider's web I came with nothing left to master, at least nothingtoo abstract. Like moonlight thru a metal gate I emitted what was animal, without ceremony, without fate, only the diagonal, only the hexagonal, only configuration. …
|
943 1 1
|
People could disappear in the Pine Barrens and never be seen again. Either by their own choice or when someone didn’t want the body found. John Dance knew that was just a part of life you had to accept and couldn’t change.
|
1234 6 6
|
With their brightly-colored bits of
found string
woven into the walls of their nests
to teach their baby birds
what the worms of the future
will look like.
Somewhat like the
cave paintings of Lascaux
for early man in France,
when hunti
|
1174 8 6
|
At some point we all reach the end point/
of something. Something important/
if only to our fragile self esteem.
|
996 1 1
|
It was in his teeth. A blackness, a subscription to an outsideness, a painful contraction of burnt out trees scattered there among sand drifts and tidal debris. His face, lightly weathered and troubled, a tightness built into eyes of thought and separation. His arms, strong…
|
1423 20 15
|
over tea & saltineshe read melike an obituary
|
1801 10 11
|
We're each other's inside out. (100 words)
|
1148 2 2
|
II. ByCoalport Your hair streams minarets across a bridge, The…
|
1130 5 4
|
Published writers will tell you that the most important thing you can do as a beginning writer is to know your markets! So this month, we'll talk about two of the markets open to you and your riveting but as yet unpublished prose -- Fling Magazine and Clubhouse…
|
1584 2 2
|
I got to Victoria station at quarter to eleven on a Friday with nothing but a small leather bag and the vague idea of getting out of London.
|
1175 5 3
|
This mother, she buys a one way ticket
whenever she visits her three daughters
who have wandered far from the eyes of
her pearlescent knitting needles and tutti-frutti yarns.
|
1094 7 5
|
I dreamt, said the Donkey, of an apricot. An apricot the size of a heart. …
|