929 7 4
|
The mud slicks at low tide were a mood.Thick gobs that smelled of fish, sulfur and claysalt and wild seaweed like fungusmoldy like left out fruityet it drew her closerto the shorelinecloser to feelingit between her toesthick, squirtsas her feet liftedlike a suction cupand…
|
100055
|
|
114452
|
Reincarnation. Not a bad deal, especially for cows. For the rest of us, it is like being in a witness protection program. And all without the risk of having those against whom you bore witness coming after you. Usually.
|
103286
|
When I asked her about her husband, she laughed.
|
100663
|
c'mon honey let's go get stoned
the night is falling
where did you say we were going?
|
100565
|
I was right to fear the God of my father
He is a monster.
|
98243
|
you've swallowed a whale bone and not a whole chicken. It's not about being surrounded by very nice stuff. We always thought there was much, much more than haunted walls inside cold castles. People connect the dots like collecting stamps. Things get…
|
98722
|
Hygga was on the French news tonight. Hygga is big in France. And Scandinavia, of course. I'd never heard of it. Hygga comes from a Danish word meaning “to give courage, comfort, joy.” It stems from hyggia, which means to think in Old Norse, and is related to…
|
1088146
|
|
77431
|
He tilted his head at his monitor and exhaled “No.” Minutes later, he tilted his head the other way and more sharply exclaimed “No!” Then he began over the next quarter hour simply to stare at the data stream before him, which left him speechless.
|
98266
|
His hands are old
But still function
As hands
|
76522
|
Natalie blushed the vodka with an almost pointless twist of the fruit juice as I fought in my inside jacket pocket for my wallet...
|
1193199
|
it is said to make your manliness last forever
|
105455
|
what-ta-hell, fuck this
he snorts brushing
the dust from his shoulders
|
27271410
|
I think he viewed Communion as an act of hygiene that allowed him to go on being fiery and self-determined.
|
101921
|
And then, one fateful day, the world ran out of ideas. The last one was gone, floating away like a balloon full of the helium we had already squandered.
|
92460
|
The absence sits on the window sillIt looks like the tree growing in front of itlimbs long and crookedwretched clocktime passes like torn silkShe sits at the mirror looking past thingsHer TV blasts the newsconfront the questionCovid -19 The vaccinationTrump is…
|
73332
|
the drive-ins now are dead and gone /
where once we laught through splatter films: / our screens too small, our horrors do not fit— / no monumental screens are left, / no close-ups show us what we think we fear.
|
123200
|
Mike Summer's moustache was perfect. Hard bristle and so symmetrical it looked cut to the angles of a military imperative. He was pretty proud of it, thought the team of beaters, who watched him as he sat on the boot ledge of his sage green Mercedes 123 T, combing…
|
89942
|
Dear Credit Card Thief, I think of you—hunched, green cast, a zombie of the ephemeral, greedily parsing code, stealth hands like a lover's over my plastic doppelgänger, wafer of identity, your key to the internet of things, to me. Did you have a pleasant…
|
141555
|
where will we be/ when it happens?
|
1208118
|
This is the place you need a third hand
|
106422
|
I don't care what my reincarnated self thinks about today. I'm already aware that everything stinks in the end. Well. It's supposed to. But all things must seek travel while they can. Dance while they can. Dream while they can. Laugh while they can.…
|
11151415
|
the making by taking away
|
96321
|
See if you can come up with the pattern. There is very little run-up to the theme. I am not making this up...
|
140475
|
I'm hearing a noise. I can't see it. It's hiding and seems to be coming from the other side of the creek. With boots on I slowly wade across. The water makes its light lapping sounds. Reaching the bank, I search for the noise. It must have a face, suntanned and warm, that I…
|
113454
|
—but night does not reduce me to sleep / the dragging minutes keep awake / the dark that only opens its deep . . .
|
1203126
|
it's all a bit like the quiet steam
drifting to nowhere off my microwaved
hot coffee in the sunflower mug
|
66811
|
What if I let it be known that I've been enjoying a heavy correspondence with Queen Elizabeth my entire life? We began the correspondence on the very day she was coronated. February 6th, 1952. I was four years old and working as a bartender in Cheyenne, Wyoming. …
|
74900
|
The sacrificial tendency is a real ugly one A pound of flesh, because it grows back But gnarled and scarred For you, So you may smile or cry Whatever you need How about an ounce of truth? How about I make a maze And you walk through…
|
