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And now, the weather. The Cloud Wranglers have roped three solid clouds this morning, preventing the clouds from raining iron bars onto Human Brain Storage Center #17.
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149421
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Odd bookends
stuck in familiar territory,
we have become lethargic
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95800
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you are in Faulkner’s dream -a lost pilgrim in cheap shoes
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137511
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This morning, my band mates discussed their relationship deal breakers.
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116193
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Our trouble decided when the CUNY PhD student, a poet, cried out, “Racination!” during discussion of my poem.
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131612
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In exactly 100 words, I review the cracks between my keyboard keys.
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the waves all green and gooey, all / pommes frites, ruinous, insolent, half / fractal
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139000
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she thinks she looks good in her short red dress, black makeup around her eyes, last night's lipstick a slap of crimson on her cheek.
"like this," she says, holding the hammer above her head.
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173064
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"...I wonder if it held magical powers..."
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152142
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Take shelter from the rain inside the Museum of Sex.
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When the snow reached the windowsills I was no longer a virgin.
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2250146
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I wear a white dress.
I vomit on hers.
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157921
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Ripper the dog died after eating a Quarter which had lodged in Ripper's throat choking her to death. Steve Latino buried her in the backyard the next morning. He felt nothing…
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1442900
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“Why won't you let me watch you?”My stomach twisted with anxiety at his question, but also with excitement. Tim, my boyfriend of a year and a half, lathered soap on my back as we stood under the hot shower spray. He loved these post-sex showers as much as I…
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180174
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Start with a long look down the alley, a small hoodied figure turning in.
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Outside the lattice of snow suspended in the air comes with traces of the glitter that was in her hair.
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A raininess envelops you already in the womb. The water that began in the mouth a generation before you, away from any explanation, reason, or need for speech, and now seeks out the same dear lovable blood in you as those who came before you – these are
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19921811
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She hardly twitches. Her face regards the stars. If her body is an object, it is the isthmus before global warming.
They want to find the source of the glacier in her eyes that is always melting. Maybe they like a woman who cries.
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He shivered in his robe and pajama pants as the showdown with the piggy bank continued on this dark winter’s night. He couldn’t resist the cute dots for eyes, the stubby legs and perked up ears.
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would absolutely love to hear from you singing as careless as a cat choir as you make your fingertip wishes well known to the dishwasher night,want you to be ever so playful with your environments as you please. While (those)…
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196410
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They’d met by sheer accident.
Torrential rain & a deserted bungalow were the perfect catalysts.
‘You shouldn’t be alone at this hour’ Kurt whispered.
‘It’s not by design’ Ursula murmured.
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“Emerald Leaf Borers, Dutch Elm Disease and Gypsy Moths blow through here like the Plagues of Egypt,” said Rafe, sipping from his glass of Parallel 44 wine. “You'd think we'd get more than a few days of good weather for all the parasites we feed.” …
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In the dark, alone after she was gone, he would whisper her name into his pillow and fight the tears more out of shear exhaustion than anything else. He had mourned for her even before she had passed, as he watched helpless while the disease marched slowly and…
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I’d say something I didn’t mean, then she’d say something she didn’t mean, and on and on until one of us came up dry and would be forced to—take exception to something the other had said, to take it seriously.
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When you awaken on the other side, you will see, I was like the swan gliding before death, and the animating power of her is willing and unavoidable. And you are itching, feeling an inextinguishable sexual desire, its nightmare ink burnt in your head, n
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The deep breathing has helped. My heart rate is back down to a normal resting rate somewhere in the neighborhood of 50 to 60 beats per minute, about one solid thump every second like clockwork, a precision I can truly appreciate.
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“Turn the fucking thing off!” I yelled above the noise. “It’s fucking New Year’s morning!”
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Sorry Glenn Gould, I said, but our princess is in another castle. After that, Glenn and I went to an all night diner and ate scrambled eggs.
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By morning it was over. I crawled farther out onto the ledge. The three year old was screaming like Donald Duck. Trains ran into the night. Several pigs entered the open window.
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