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—They turned him into a time bomb. Listen close, and you can hear the tick-tick-tick.
—All I hear is snoring. How do you know he was brainwashed?
—Because he can’t remember a thing about the experiment.
—I can say this: If he can’t remember anyth
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144454
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The Lake I. When the weather was nice, the fisherman and his girl spread a blanket over the shore's rough sand and watched the cargo ships cleave their way to the…
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98700
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Isaac Beauregard Lyons woke with a start as he heard the slamming of a pickup truck door then a curse from someone down on his front lawn. “Damn it Mike, be quiet!” someone shouted.
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90001
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“So he rounds up three bums and says he'll buy 'em a case of beer if they’ll do a job for him. All they have to do is ride around in a car for his campaign. Of course they all said yes.”
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for Melissa together today. I like that feeling. I want to pound a piano into the ground just for you. To your warmest heartbeat I raise my glass. Thank you. It doesn't really matter if they think that's a velvety Elvis…
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108211
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They say I'm supposed to see everything as a nail, but I have a silver head. Too soft for bang-bang. Too soft for anything but sitting on a shelf. I sat in her classroom for twenty-five years. She was proud of me and pointed often to the words inscribed on me that I can't…
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When I met Sally
I was all
Unsuspecting
Of what powers
Might be found
In this world and
In a woman.
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137682
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Marge bought the rug on-line.
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152743
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And don’t you dare start panicking. Just sit there silently, letting the truth that you’re alone sear the back of your neck until it starts to feel cold.
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96853
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accidental ground/
for index-fingered figures
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118165
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I found a diseased fish / wedged between some boulders near the pier
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123576
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Up at the top, a quarter mile south, billows of black smoke crawled up the faint blue of the sky.
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just before my break,/ he came on the line,/ old and slow with computers now/ but wanting a discount/ he'd been told he qualified for.
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148762
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They stood at the intersection waiting for the light to change so they could cross the highway.
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If in one instant of follie I plea to you What am I? would you then not ask yourselfwhat are We?Would you think maybe We are oneand I would ask to you my loveCan One, then, be transformed into Two? What is left of one after the sum?Can two be touched or…
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145954
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It's not my fault I was made to be stepped on, so stop saying what I am with such contempt. Yes, I'm a doormat. No, I'm not weak. I have taken a hundred kinds of treads, twice as many pounds at once, and once or twice there have been cleats. Think about what those would do…
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when i was five or six/ we lived in an apartment/ and every sunday/ i'd lie on the carpet/ to watch squares of sunshine/ crawl across the rug/ while my mother inflicted upon us/ a centuries-long hour of television/ worse than any droning mass.
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Our afterlife depends upon//
what interesting shape
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a world of probability against plague
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Please stay on the line. Or don't stay on the line. We don't care. If we cared about your call, we'd answer it. Which, to be honest, isn't going to happen. We're going to make you hold. And while you hold, we're going to subject you to some really bad…
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92600
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My body continues to tread water through its daily existence and each day challenges me to find some sort of grounding. I often wonder who needs taking care of as I find myself sometimes spiraling in a downwards cycle-- not even taking a required break
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Ben had us over, me and him and his boy, Benji, to look at the supernova. Ben was always coming up with these things with the telescope. Jupiter's moons, Saturn's rings. On his wedding night he made everybody stop dancing and run out to the golf course so he could show us…
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He began to chop the powdery substance and separate it into segments.
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My father is the kind of man to shout at you /
just because you took the wrong road /
at least the road that he’s not used to...
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You welcome the new girl by putting a message on her back. I breathe harder until she pops or until you ask me what I’ve seen or until you see my hand turn into a fist.
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My softness craves your weight. Give me your shape, and I won't resist it. Or, rather, I will but just enough to recall it. I can only give that much, and that's my fatal flaw. If I were a more pliable thing, I could let go of these impressions. The stains—coffee,…
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There is a whisper in the shadows
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This artist has a wonderful sense of line and color. Abstract is not my métier, but I appreciate the art behind this painting. It helps to copy it. You sleep with it for a time and, like a woman, you learn her passions and taboos.
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The three of us traveled seven hours that day and Al traveled as far in the service of finding the right tool for his writing.
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