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When she was just a little bit younger, Dana wanted to be known around town as something other than the girl who used up all the machines at the laundromat with her little brothers' Spiderman underwear and her grandpa's pants soiled with God-knows-what. Something…
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134652
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You’ve got Wikipedia. Look them up: vagina and penis. What Wikipedia will not tell you, however, is the thousands of years of human anguish, and rapture, wrapped up in those two organs.
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103952
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I’m not in the habit of just hanging out on the corner handing out “free stuff,” you know. I figured it was going to cost you. But I was wrong. It cost me instead.
You can only float near the ceiling when you’ve become an emptied vessel. No hope or
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1173103
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[...] in the living room above the fire, someone had gouged a letter A on the wall.
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152811
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Directions: Match the stanza to the Beat icon:
A. William S. Burroughs
B. Peter Orlovsky
C. Jack Kerouac
D. Carl Solomon
E. Allen Ginsberg
F. Neal Cassidy
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28042520
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The diagnosis was peculiar, the doctors agreed, / but so was the condition
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67420
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Whitman touched his share of skin
and didn’t think of it as sin,
and yet could bring himself to say
“What is more or less than a touch?”
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145331
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There was a hole in my tooth. It wouldn't let anything go.
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117020
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Time is a form of sandwich. Each component of the sandwich is nestled between night and day, which enclose it like slices of bread. There are minutes, hours, and seconds. Seconds are tiny, like sesame seeds. Minutes are a little larger. Think of them as p
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86700
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This wasn’t my first time, ever, but it was ours. This wasn’t the life of a pigeon after sex, you know, sucking some soda pop off the pavement. This was real. This was me up there on your ceiling! And I’m not so fond of lightning either.
If you thou
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161182
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Entering that darkroom is like slipping through the barrel of a rifle.
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12081310
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I realize that to say, "I do not believe in God" is footsteps away from "I do not rely on God" and "God left me."
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122052
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[...] A crimson post-it note/ illustrates the squiggle of a resting pulse wavering/
near the broken pencil leads and whorls of/soft wood which may be classed as evidence.
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117921
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The blue of the sky pierced her heart. She patted her lips with her tongue and turned to him. “We have to talk.”
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105500
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You were there at the beginning almost, when I wanted to write about the dead spider I smashed on my bedroom wall, comparing it to the blue/grey smoke of the blown-off fireworks drifting overhead.
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113121
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My mind fabricated the smell of gunpowder as I pushed down.
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142111
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No chance for Hallo, we sank into an unlit station doorway and he fumbled through my shorts.
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236885
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—That was harsh, said Jen as the bathroom door slammed behind Melanie. —Mel's my best friend, not yours. She needed to know that shade of blue doesn't go with olive skin. —Viv, you said she looked like a whore. —That's how our friendship…
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I looked down at Earth and imagined this porn star who’d asked for my help.
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That new rain smell in your backyard, specifically I remember that, with you. And lying in the grass in a park with you on the 4th of July, maybe in Lombard, watching the blue/grey smoke of the fireworks drifting overhead after they went off, and the sm
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1756118
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In the morning, I lay on my side and ran a finger down the girl’s back, lightly tracing her spine. I remarked on the whiteness of her skin.
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I smell it, it smells/Of giggles and leg shaking
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105721
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By the time he says “I am tired of the smell of pig shit and death” you’ve already lost interest
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When the sex that is new and promising in its awkward moments is over, you turn to him. You expect that he’s figuring out a way to leave; the parts of you that know wait for him to stand up and put his clothes back on, quicker and with more eagerness than
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168055
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His people eat soggy casseroles and smile with tight lips.
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She was not the usual member of the band, not the girl nextdoor, not next to any door, not a regular housekeeper or woman. She was a ditch digger, a pied, circular piper, a mouse hugger.
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tiny bits each one found meant something had blown apart. that someone was no longer with us. but somewhere that things were crawling towards unity again. another gun had been fired. would peace always start over? it's funny how it will. a hand…
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he knows that his wife knows. she can smell the adverbs on his tongue in the mornings. but he cannot get through another evening in that house without consonants.
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I saw God sobbing in a wheelchair. I saw God on the ceiling of your bedroom on Illinois Street while you were inside me the first time. (I remember so many things… Do you remember who I am yet?) I saw myself, far away in a window – the swan on earth
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98900
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For every Ruben Studdard, there are ten Mick Jaggers and, considered merely in terms of avoirdupois, the two sides of that scale would probably balance.
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