1352 4 4
|
That night, when Nostalgia knocked on my door just before dawn, I had just enough time to catch her coat as she slipped it off and staggered into my apartment.
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153463
|
". . those incandescent secrets she would
pepper in. The sister who ran away."
|
322382
|
1. Main character:
Promiscuous girlfriend.
2. Main character's goal:
Wants to have a lot of sex.
3. Obstacle:
Has boyfriend.
4. Character's idea of a solution to the goal:
Cheats on boyfriend.
|
161944
|
She Waited for the other Shoe to Drop
|
126844
|
What if she doesn't take me seriously? My sweaty testimony wedged tight behind the tragic I used to think was honest? What if, right? What if . . . Isolation Real men feel that, right? They have …
|
173183
|
He was supposed to be a garden gnome. Give pause to the squirrels, keep an eye on the impatiums. We found him at Wegman’s. He looked hopeful and observant.
|
153254
|
He did not hear her enter the room...
|
131831
|
The white and yellow are sublime and desperately powerful, like angry screaming over tears and through laughter or hatred. Maybe the words are about crying or laughing, but the expressions are altogether impenetrable and distant. The jokes told behind the teeth and through…
|
183663
|
She breezes through the door, cellphone to ear, with the confidence of the affluent. Can you look at my left rear tire, the dashboard indicator says it's low. Back to her phone, Oh, Marsha, hi, how are you, you gorgeous WOMAN, you!? Hey, I'm on my way to…
|
154754
|
“You haven’t been listening, have you.”
|
162492
|
Cat's ass was on fire. The roof was scorching hot. Her clothes were in a pile by the door that led to the roof. She was sitting next to the ventilation duct, her hands outstretched behind her, her knees bent before her. Jim was standing in front of…
|
135353
|
we can’t hear the hum/
and the heat is imperceptible.
|
118544
|
We were both looking up at the rainy sky, while the big jet barely moved through the clouds, coming in for a landing at Oakland between storms.
It sort of reminded me of 911, the way they just seemed to hover above us, barely moving, like they were poss
|
174864
|
We need to keep writing
because the great ones
aren’t always that great
We need to keep writing
to insure that the future
even has a future
We need to keep writing
because the wind won’t know how
or when to listen if we don’t
|
136343
|
Need not remember, the 6th of November.
|
179363
|
I stand corrected once more.
|
93743
|
Crispcrashingcoldan interlude from youThe pebbles pulled back and forthlike side stepping nailswhite frothan interlude from youThe sun likeA camellia for herCrispColddropsflicking on her face.An interludefrom you.
|
200183
|
“Would you consider renewing for the next season?”
“We’re not interested.”
“Can I ask you why?”
I considered my reply. I was thinking of mincing my words. The man on the other end of the line seemed, how should I put this, somewhat s
|
181633
|
In a corner of a neighbor’s land too stony to till Cob makes a mystery.
|
107682
|
With furrowed brow, he took the plastic stems and began to beat the blossom ends
against the black brick wall.
|
111953
|
It was a summer full of rage and discontent. The air had a new taste to it, reminiscent of the tang of battery acid.
|
136754
|
I don’t even want to think about Aethra shtupping Posiden and Aegeus
|
120772
|
Let us both stand steep, alone, this night; the tide Lies, hastening to us: and, far away, I hear the sea gulls sweep, through the divide That shapes drear skies, between dead lights of day. What worth was love? Man severs all he is, To make one…
|
148334
|
Consider this. Only a sentence ago we were complete strangers, oceans of time, distance and thought between us.
|
167873
|
In every writer's room there is a bogeyman born in the closet, growing with every blot on the virgin sheet, feeding on the pain of writing, of solitude, the failure, the rage, the confusion, the helplessness, the fear, the humiliation. The narrower the…
|
97362
|
We came wind-milling together ,up and over the blue and yellow stone bluffs, like a couple of empty yet racing nowhere fast plastic grocery bags, catching onto everything and anything in our way, and desperately trying to get free again,…
|
125773
|
Sometimes you want to strike out at me. What is stopping you? There is no stopping you. You know I will not retaliate. Gone is all that I will be to you then.
|
158543
|
I still see Big Mama leaning over her garden to pick a zinnia to put in her still life. Her old pink slip, hanging diagonally a foot under her hiked up, ragged, stained dress, half covered by her paint smock, which matched her white, faux fur, bedroom sli
|
180973
|
Having read the poetry of Dennison
I hereby give up writing.
|
162363
|
—Frank, how is your sex life?
|
