1632 9 8
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. . . catching her breath somewhere between ecstasy and surprise. . .
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145433
|
And, you peasy-headed shrew, don’t you dare think I didn’t notice that it was you who stuck that fork into my neck in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot late Tuesday night . . .
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22563
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113311
|
Sometimes your Monday morning answer to the inevitable questions don't have to be so mundane and repetitive. And sometimes they do. No one gives a shit anyway.
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1546139
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We mourn/
in perpetuity and are inured
|
143475
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Nine sated elephants and an ass sit around a decimated Thanksgiving table discussing the state of the union over the hacked to bits carcass of a twenty-three pound turkey. Two years in to The Great Communicator's Lame Duck term and the nine elephants, whose…
|
126054
|
I am trying very hard to rhyme,
and trying very hard not to.
|
136944
|
A rope is cleaner,
he explains with a straight face.
He's calmed by the visual.
|
142195
|
Beneath the rise and murmur of your voicethere lies a hush more rapid than the silence meets within your eyes; the ghosts of cloudfall also meet them there. Your tongue has murmurs more than I can hear just now, for here my ears are met with something…
|
143142
|
Frank shouldered his backpack, grabbed the leather satchel packed with his brushes, palette knives, pens, and pencils, and exited the vaporetto at the Rialto Bridge.
|
1364126
|
It comes to me at night, the monster. I don't even realize it's in the room until I hear it breathing behind me. It reaches out its hands and places them on my shoulders. Its fingers are furry and soft, but strong. They grasp the muscles on either side of my neck, and I…
|
130122
|
She was gazing down at her two hands holding the peach seersucker top, but without blinking she saw four hands—ahh, idiot, the mirror! But in the next moment no, it was four hands . . .
|
24743
|
|
147153
|
|
160187
|
He died in the ditch he dug.
|
17861211
|
Everything would've been copasetic except about the time we got down there they put the turkey in the fryer..
|
17662214
|
the signature of God/
consigning everything/
to the saturating energies of time.
|
22272317
|
Death came to my street, but I did not invite him.
|
143298
|
Years later he surveys this place again to post something, anything. He plays "sex on fire," sounds that once fueled him. Now he knows the song is about VD, not unbridled potency. Names and words all seem at once familiar and numbing and noise. He once wanted fame or…
|
121200
|
As Mrs. Saito put on the helmet, the copter got off the ground. She focused her Mana and placed her hand on the window, bracing for the birds arrival.
|
100952
|
—Francesco, said Zambrano, rising from his desk and putting his arm around Frank's shoulder. You and me, we're business partners. Regular capital crime buddies.
|
134966
|
Rises monstrous out of the Baltoro GlacierPlaying poker with oxygen levelsPlays leap frog with embolisms.Malice and vanity join forces somurder guns the air even beforethe Death Zone. Down suits, bold and cockyregisters the climber's ambitions. The Serac , a…
|
1713129
|
My man wears chartreuse shoes.!
He wears chartreuse shoes like a new king
right there on Main St.!
|
157055
|
This may be too religious for you, as at first it was so with me. But I assure you, on my scholarly integrity, I have found the Genesis Serpent’s skin! Yes, that Genesis Serpent--though just a leftover piece of him,
|
26242
|
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16731513
|
We lived on the edge of a tiny Iowa town, and picked corn fields were steps away.
|
197755
|
It seems the people of this house were a happy family – The smiling faces, the children’s enthusiasm tells me as much. I wonder what happened to them.
|
161655
|
. . . did you notice yesterday afternoon how for an entire quarter hour five o’clock itself looked for a few minutes as if it would never arrive?
|
137176
|
Here the three o'clock sun is an old patched up fellow, with a stained yellow beard, walking in a small crispy rain of brown leaves, looking at something that requires a bit of squinting no one else can see, on the far side of the softening…
|
20221313
|
He stays a couple of yards behind me as we slog uphill. I try to diffuse the tension with a coy toss of head, slip on wet leaves. My ankle rolls and I splat noisily down. From my new angle his beard looks less stylish—bristles straggle all up his neck. He maintains…
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