982 4 1
|
|
115311
|
When we started plans for the party, none of us wanted Larry to die, most of all Larry himself.
Actually, when we first started plans for the party, Larry wasn’t dying.
|
10971814
|
The phone rings. The oven beeps./
The locomotive whistles and howls.
|
102153
|
only thoughts lost in lonely trails of red
|
134387
|
After school watching American Bandstand with my two best friends, all three of us lusting after Bunny Gibson who’s all of sixteen, stacked, and very fucking hot.
|
118522
|
Sloe Gin Fizz is pink
Bombay Gin comes in blue
I’m sitting here at Emerald’s
And all I can think of is –
you.
|
108232
|
A young boy, breathing heavily from running, stopped at her feet, barely able to speak,
|
108942
|
|
138643
|
I. When my lips mouth yours where they are…
|
117744
|
When I got that brain tumor I hallucinated this crazy doctor. Dr. Doug. He came into my…
|
114043
|
“I want you to know that you are being watched,” Ernie said. “I have trained a camera on your work station.”
|
122995
|
I brimmed with sexual energy and it flowed about me like a buttermilk, silk robe. Rich and thick, musk-laden and fortified with my own particular brand of woman.
|
115063
|
I'm not sure if this is breaking the rules of Fictionaut, but here's a trailer of a poetry tour of Europe I did earlier this year. We hope to break it down into webisodes soon enough to highlight the brilliant readings, brilliant local poets and such that you can find not…
|
128897
|
God's real name is Frank, and he stops by all the time. He tries to dump that cheap Xmas candy on us.
|
107831
|
The sugar cookie sits on the cold counter. Alone. He is cut in the shape of an angel, a fact which often causes him to contemplate the possibility that he may not be a cookie at all, but an angel. Who says he couldn’t be?
|
133042
|
Had I scoured all five boroughs of New York I couldn’t have found a more perfect imperfect object for my affections. Morgan was crazy as a loon, with the common sense of a mackerel and the emotional stability of a canary. But believing love could conquer
|
95664
|
Further down a small group of men lolled near a doorway.
|
123364
|
"...innocent butterflies of pollution
trapped and entangled,"
|
104595
|
He kept
saying how my old scars
excited him to new truths
|
81185
|
take out the yellowed recipes/
left by mothers and grandmothers—//
perhaps the great aunt who never married—
|
103232
|
She flew through the air, linen skirt billowing around her. Below, her buckled bicycle was taking a different route. Less aerodynamic than she, its trajectory was brief, crashing into the ditch. Elspeth kept on flying. Time slowed, and expanded
|
115542
|
Downton Abbey and The Beverly Hillbillies. They're practically the same show.
|
106221
|
Metropolitan I. Atlantic harbinger of this our swaddled dawn: Mistaking moon's sea sweep for this the frown The sky's plain-countenanced creatures maytimes weep Upon the surface-sundown of our lawn, When gaily surfaced for…
|
89611
|
1. Days of InnocenceFluorescent maggot men dance the flamenco.2. The Eyes of MedusaPythons and immobile pole dancers in grey body paint.3. GolgothaA drunken mechanical Christ grinds your bones to make his bread.4. Big Ape BollocksAlpha males slug it out in a cage made of…
|
139311
|
Ham
If you have never cooked a ham steak, you need not be afraid. The ham is often cut so thin that to over or undercook it is nearly impossible. The exterior reflects the centre better than any other meat; you will know when to stop.
|
94043
|
I know I was hungry, she says
to herself, maybe.
I was hungry for what
you had to offer. Your
fast car, your dad’s
ski boat, your prettiness,
your beautiful mouth,
your eyes, and yes for
the joy you could give me
between the legs.
B
|
911157
|
...he had that same grin, better than a racy French picture.
|
1077105
|
Cultivate your vaginal tears
at the gates of Thigh and Holy.
|
85500
|
dove from the trenches, double-check
|
108121
|
Did Isaac see, his mirror in the fronds Of apple-orbs that let their ripeness stay No more than supplication of the wands The sweet tornados in one drizzle's wings betray? The tree that greets them is not ruled by iron bands Whose light's lines were…
|
