1224 7 5
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The Devil and the Holy Ghost played Euchre on Friday nights. The Devil drank rock and rye and the Holy Ghost went for Miller Lite. What just irks hell out of me, pardon my French, the Ghost began, is that nobody knows who the fuck I am.
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102611
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Normally I would have never drank such a wine, but it was late on a Friday evening and the bottle was on the house...
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89521
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We are nerds. We are Legion. We do not forgive. We do not forget. Expect us bitch.
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177431
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Hipster-neutral dressed simulacra-person offers a glance and a wave, sudden as a ping-pong serve, designed to crowd your space and "pal" you but I dodge it — I'm practiced at this.
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118654
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Many hours to make a brick: many bricks to make a curve.
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75810
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The funeral grounds look level and calm. We leave the urban world behind for an instant. The other world has claimed someone. But we are in limbo. It is a terrible thing when a connection or breakthrough moment is not achieved or granted by the universe. …
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116286
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I wrote her a poem.She said, “I hate poetry.” I said, “OK, just read the words then."
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112552
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Your stepsisters send their love. All three are still on the wagon.
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63710
|
There's no place like here, this massive legume. Smell the wingéd cold and the wretched streets and the sun that shines through you like a rosy bloom. Don't feel entitled to anything, because you're not. For God's sake (and yours) don't get caught in the caul.The…
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63000
|
Salome said she wanted the head of John the Baptist on a platter, adding
the latter touch of finery for reasons
all her own.
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67320
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The next morning, I was shaved, skinned and stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey for its untimely demise.
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116873
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The surroundings, he thought, are just as important as what's surrounded.
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1135157
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I fondly remember those warm, weekend evenings at twilight on the beach. After the frolic of the waves flattened, sending the surfers home and, after the last bait was spent, sending the surfcasters away, I'd set up the little, foldable, 3‘x4', rectangular stage I always…
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100800
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Welcome to the world of (un)reality television. He/she who dies with the most stories wins. Another kind of religion. The Church of Being Famous For Whatever.
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114821
|
Two days before Christmas 1946, my mother put me on an Illinois Central railroad train at the whistle stop of Neoga, Illinois.
|
941159
|
Squeeze the Word into Flesh
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2666159
|
Although decades have passed since I last tasted lysergic acid with diethylamide flavoring, I cannot fail to remember the tasting.
|
26287745
|
I squeeze the soft bag tighter between my legs.
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102110
|
The morning news.
The birthday present you bought me.
This poem.
My hair when I wake up in the morning, at any given point in the day.
Pigeon pose.
My singing voice.
How much I love myself.
Coffee.
Sex.
Not having sex.
Having movie star sex.
Ha
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1479144
|
He had the cannonball head of Hemingway, the stump neck, sloping shoulders and barrel chest.
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149111
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maybe if I bat my lashes just right, or look prim enough to fly, you just might touch me tonight, and the dream will pop and fizz and I will wake somewhere, your hands smoothing these lines of worry away.
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109952
|
The last time I saw Jackson, I didn’t write down the set list. This time I didn’t write down the set list, either.
|
118000
|
Ahead, she heard voices. She approached very slowly, as quiet as possible. She knelt behind a pair of shrubs and peeked through a small opening.
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89443
|
Gun Notches
Working Stiffs
Garlic Torch
Dog Crouch
Menbrain
Membrane
Ein Zwei Drei
Fake German Soldier
Wet Tissue
Tissue Paper Pants
Tough Stain
Adam and Evil
Closed Loophole
Wait For It
Fiscal Cliff and the Cliffhangers
Repu
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115042
|
It's 6:45 a.m. A gritty, mundane sort of magic pervades the air at "Valentine’s" in the Hamilton Hotel.
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68500
|
I know you want to hold me. I won't break. I love you. Your hands - when they caress me are soft and gentle. My words speak only to you. They speak of love and of how we spend…
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97543
|
The old hate the young. Robe exposed monks do not Hate mosquitoes. It is one. It is one hand. It is one. Mountains don't hate sky. The rich hate the poor. The poor hate the rich. The parade of scholars hate the …
|
90100
|
Mr. Skunk looked disdainfully at the window. “When the fuck do we get out of this place?” It was mostly rhetorical as the Skunks were all stuffed and inanimate.
|
86841
|
A woman I work with is always going on about her daughter is an expert water-skier and has a collection of antique thimbles and makes prize-winning congo bars.
|
82400
|
As Zoë says, “You and your musician friends drink in industrial quantities.”
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