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I was about to answer when that something emerged from the woods. It was not an animal, after all, but a woman dressed all in brown. She approached our porch windows. I shuddered and turned away. But her coming was inevitable. When I turned back, she
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Patrick Savage, who has died aged 29, was a poker player fast on his way to becoming a cult figure in the music scene.
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This was not a good sign, comforting gestures from strangers were bad omens.
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When we were leaving to go to the ice rink, Lynda surprised all of us by saying she wanted to come along. She slid all the way over in the front seat to be next to me, while one of my buddies, Miller, who had his eye on her himself, slid into the passen
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One night he woke up with Underdog laying next to him, breathing softly. He marveled at how fiction could make reality so much better.
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By the basement washtubs, I watched him skin a squirrel:
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#whateverhappenedto #beforesex #whateverhappenedto #duringsex #whateverhappenedto #aftersex #nevertrust[written in August 2009]
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[ADVERTISEMENT: If you look for it, Google search, for 'html special characters,' the UT Austin page will come up, and you can just Cut & Paste 'em. Fuck the code!]
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There’s Julie-she’s the cineaste–
Au courant woman with a past.
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“Pupilo Durcál!” She yelled. “You stupid pendejo!” He limped along without another glance. Rosa suddenly realized her dreams all week were really omens.
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You had to put up with
Sunday drivers
You had to love children
All children, all of them!
This is what it took to be God
It wasn’t fun
You had to be patient, sometimes
You had to pretend to look the other way
You needed to lose your he
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I give you three words
dripping wet with whatever and you
take them, harbor them...
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Often I want to kiss their lips
Drink in every word they have written
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It was May of my senior year in college. Everybody was coasting, knowing what they were going to be doing the next year, or that they’d be doing nothing. Except for one guy, Tom.
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When the house was sold the new owners walked in on what they believed was a former life stopped cold. There on the table remained a half-filled teacup and a well-read magazine lying open from years gone by. A Royal Doulton dish set lay half packed on the
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The drapes are closed against the sunlight, but Ginny can feel someone in the room. She peers through barely open eyes so as not to let on she's awake. She adjusts her position in a way she hopes mimics sleep, turns her head to the side. A woman…
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... red lipstick shiny in the bar's light, raven-colored hair spiky and toussled. Jen opened her mouth to say something, stickiness of her cherry Chapstick separating with her lips ... and the girl leaned in and started kissing her.
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This gravity thing, I reckon, is enamored with me. It loves me so much that it has fettered me with itself.
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“plain before my eyes” said he eyes swathed in bandages covering sight
oozing yellow fluid is this life thought i
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Metropolitan I. Atlantic harbinger of this our swaddled dawn: Mistaking moon's sea sweep for this the frown The sky's plain-countenanced creatures maytimes weep Upon the surface-sundown of our lawn, When gaily surfaced for…
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Dear Butterfly, Are you there ? Wherever there is ? Are you there, crossing your feet on top of each other, sipping your coffee while observing the sky from behind those cat-eye glasses of yours ? 3 days, 8 months and 11 years. That's exactly how long since the last time…
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Bracing himself against the wind, Zach gets to his feet without a thought for direction or destination. In the white forever of this place, there is no lantern to light the dark and bitter woods of memory. Even the croakers would find little use for such
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You can't always be everything
you were expected to be
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Allow me one moment of stasis from pain, If I must really become that one, Who brought by giant hand man's gain, And suffered through theft of the sun. No dagger pricks the injured side, Or vulture picks the source of bile: Still must wan hordes…
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if you don't quiver with anticipation you'll barely manage to explode
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You can have two threes, or three twos. I hear the beat both ways. It goes back and forth in my head, like magic, transforming from one to the other and back again. And I am learning the basics of music theory, and painting geometric shapes with primary colors. I am…
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When someone asks me what I do, I tell them that I am a fixer. I fix things. There is nothing that cannot be fixed. Will it ever be as good as new? That is subjective, but I will fix it for you.
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Does modeling come easily to me? Am I made for the camera? Not exactly. When I pose for a shot, I feel, well, like a poser, really.
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I know you through the rich dark brown soilcrumbling in my fingers like chocolate cake.I imagine you nurtured bell-shaped papayas,coaxing their smooth, leathery skinfrom green to yellow,while mangoes, the colors of the island sunset,hung with their tantalizing sweet…
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Two days before Christmas 1946, my mother put me on an Illinois Central railroad train at the whistle stop of Neoga, Illinois.
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