892 9 5
|
n truth, they are not red/
but chestnut./
But “Chestnut Wasp” lacks menace
|
1037 10 5
|
The catchy tune and cloying lyrics/
nonetheless etch their patterns
|
1000 5 5
|
I heard that Hollywood is remaking “Thelma and Louise” with Christina Ricci and that dark haired girl who worked on a show that plays on the television. I heard it either from the internet or from a dream. I thought about looking it up, but I don't…
|
1219 10 5
|
If there was a God he was deaf in both ears, blind in both eyes and dumb.
|
1304 8 5
|
Marv felt a stirring. Warmth in his gut. "Maybe we should get together," Marv said.
|
1473 9 4
|
Three hours isn't that long.
|
1296 7 6
|
I read it all wrong. In writing her novel, I thought Marilynne Robinson was writing about twins — writing, in some way, about me. Instead, these characters, Lucille and Ruthie, were standard sisters, one older than the other. In fact, Robinson explains th
|
675 7 5
|
thus is life conjured with music: human life / with human music human souls human earth, / hot souls the cherished fruit of the hot earth beneath.
|
1520 9 5
|
“…And his smell. That Brett smell. It might become my smell…”
|
1099 7 5
|
Cicadas shed their skin as they grow, leaving crisp hollowed out remains on tree trunks, fence posts, and the undersides of upturned leaves. Tommy and I would collect them in the early morning and stick them to our clothes like brooches. I used to like Tommy,…
|
1029 6 6
|
circumstances//
squeeze the heart so hard/
that you should die but don’t.
|
196 9 5
|
|
135 7 6
|
|
1481 11 5
|
Beside her door there was a black squirrel in the dogwood she saw scratched his armpit.
|
1709 13 4
|
--How's the wriiting business? How about that thing you' was workin' on..."Gawain's Green Nights?"
--Yeah, well, I'm kind of off the soft-core...
|
1096 6 5
|
No matter what you may discover
Or come to believe during the drinking life
The question still remains:
What if everyone was an accident?
But still, while time may appear
To be nearing its own end
And the sun seems to be getting
|
663 11 4
|
the mother tells her child the flashes at the horizonare fireworks, not bombs, so he will not be afraid.at night he curls by the door or else he follows her to a different place. he is quiet, then. as if he knows the secret challenge.better if he and all the others…
|
1141 6 5
|
|
1337 6 5
|
So few dreams are the doors they seem.
|
1550 2 2
|
And you don't like much. No handholding or brand name sweaters. No phone calls late at night. This is not you. And you certainly don't go for kisses in the rain or cards from the grocery store with…
|
1015 6 5
|
They got slices of greasy salami
On top of round mini carrots, celery
Pepperoncini, slices of sweet pickles
They got cinder block walls
A Tiki Bar with glasses hanging
Upside down from the stemware over the bar
They got wood paneling, cottag
|
1311 8 4
|
You don't want to knowthe details of my lifethe gossipthe boring moments strung togetheracross the lap ofmy sense of responsibilityit drives methrough the daysdoing this and thatchore, check on the listi am tired and need to stop for a drinkand then, i am filled up for a…
|
1558 12 4
|
It's a lie, it doesnt mean anything this, only that my lips are ripe and soft.
|
1213 11 4
|
The flash of love was real, the life within her was real, and the main thing now was to climb.
|
197 7 5
|
you are a necessary exercise in futility
|
1727 9 3
|
Our city is really two cities, conjoined. One lives during the day, the other at night. Those who live and breathe daytime air call the city by one name, a name which evokes the relative newness of the place, a name with words just barely invented.…
|
277 8 4
|
It’s just a joke, give them a poke, electric jigger in the hand
|
1088 9 5
|
There were ten thousand photographs buried in the bottom of the jar
|
714 10 5
|
I am a small cottage up on the hill. Every morning, I open my windows and my front door. First enters dawn which turns the walls blue, followed by the sun laying straws of wheat on my table. Inside my cottage the day lights up the dark corners while the lamps go quietly…
|
1441 17 4
|
It was in the spring of 1958 when I first arrived in Kobe, Japan, traveling aboard a Norwegian merchant ship, looking to make movies on a limited budget. Superior quality cameras, lenses, and film were being produced in Japan at a fraction of the cost for similar products…
|