1479 9 6
|
I realized something must be terribly wrong.
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121975
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The receipts all fell into the black leather valise he’d retrieved from storage that afternoon, except for the forty-eight cents, which wound up in the right front pocket of his jeans.
|
137365
|
This is Jorge. He was a good little monkey. And always curious.Like the time he and his friend, the man in the amarillo sombrero, had to fly to Japan. *Jorge sat by the window. Watched the ground get further away. Until they were above the clouds. He looked out…
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81385
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take out the yellowed recipes/
left by mothers and grandmothers—//
perhaps the great aunt who never married—
|
898115
|
In which era was it not a scary world?/
Last century, the perils were both red and yellow/
after Jerry was undone. Now, they’re brown/
and cross, without respect, the Rio Grande
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9995
|
We had to be very quiet in our hiding place, even though Nathan had a cold.
|
1202115
|
The Americans don't want us. They want knowledge. They want to eat with us. They want technology and weapons. They want the results of research they themselves are too craven to perform, answers to questions they ask themselves in whispers, in the dark. T
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125775
|
He drifted for years: No forwarding. No phone.
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86366
|
Look. There's just you and me, that's all that's left. All the rest of them had already given up a long, long time ago. They dropped their precious, colorful dreams like rusted railroad lanterns, like abandoned pumpkins, and littered the Twitching…
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1694144
|
Rendine Philips polishes his courage and enters the fray. Not virtual reality, more reality virtuous. He feels the pull and the push. Electricity pulses resistance.
|
193886
|
I looked around the room at the shit, the dog bed, the dish. Lights burst behind my eyes, knees weak. “Fuck…” I bent over and puked.
|
1231105
|
Freshly fucked,
Shirley exhaled enjoying the lingering sensations. She always felt lighter after a good orgasm, and this had been one for the record books.
|
114796
|
The old lady from next door had been really quiet for the last few days.
|
160221
|
"Now, I'm not no Holocaust Denier . . . I just think it was a little bump in the road! Like Reagan said about Watergate . . . 'Mistakes were made,' and all. Well, shoot . . .…
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256643
|
~our silly cosmology of visceral pleasure~
|
198955
|
I made this robot. Everyone was making them. Mine was a vacuum cleaner with a rubber jack-o-lantern mask taped to the handle. His name was Z-Bot2131F, but I just called him Brady, after my dead brother. Brady, my brother, had come out cold, and…
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1328104
|
3D is killing my porn career.
|
1389103
|
The first thing one notices about rocks is they are essentially quiet creatures. Adverse to long discourses or extended bouts of conversation, they nevertheless are quite engaged in life.
|
79975
|
There could be a Reagan circle/
with a Maggie Thatcher suite.
|
108366
|
I feel his hand on my face, feel it brush past my lips, and I taste my sister's blood.
|
159766
|
Every single girl, from junior to senior (and a few counselors too, I suspected), wanted to make out with Marty Miller. Did he know how drunk with attraction I was?
|
1410105
|
In my choppings, I come across a tiny carrot amidst the baby carrots. The runt if you will.
|
810865
|
So I wrote you a poem
Sorry if it’s geeky and weird
But I’m not your traditional guy
I mean I can’t even grow a beard
|
98266
|
Above our bellies we are beautiful women with luscious breasts. Where there is skin, believe me, it is flawless, irresistible. Most of us have long hair, but there are some among us who keep their heads close cropped for aerodynamic…
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112265
|
faith in gravity/permitted them to extol/the guillotine's blade.
|
99386
|
It must be nice not to have to worry About certain things because those things are not yet In your circle, or in your circus, of life. I don't begrudge you for being almost grown in A much different, sweeter place and time. I'm thrilled By…
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109076
|
My drunk friend is built like a hastily packed trash bag; full of lumps and portending very dark things.
|
19985
|
|
101265
|
Because it seems never to be beginning, always picking up in the middle with it’s long resonant tones, which themselves begin as if they’ve always been. Maybe that’s why we love old, sacred music. And by we I, of course, mean my two-year-old Charlie and m
|
51655
|
Mrs. Death was walking in mountains where everything around was still. Mr. Death? —in another hemisphere, wandering (last she’d heard) through a vast forest.
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