1498 3 0
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I’m sick of you headless muffuckas
searching for a facelift.
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103822
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On the days I wasn’t there, my insides felt like paper-mâché.
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58821
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You say very little when all is ready, the coffee and all, and afterward, during the ride, and even less as suddenly thirteen women pile in.
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107021
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Sarge had done this before. Not with this many rookies and not on a one-way trip. This was a suicide mission. The boys didn't know it, but he did. They weren't coming back. Hell, they couldn't come back
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112622
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'Like poems,’ I said
she paused and nodded
her black mop.
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43912
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Every time it happens,
I think of Amber Heard
and how hard you can be slapped
without a bruise forming.
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128222
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I think fat will just appear, like a narcotics cop at my door, or something.
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125412
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Moon Boy sits atop the hill's crest and watches Moon Girl.
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93331
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Coming down the stairs, you didn’t see me at all. I watched you lumbering closely. I wondered what they’d done to you to make you move this way.
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120731
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He wiped it with a damp cloth. He set it in a glazed clay pot next to the sofa and admired its scrawny handsomeness.
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110922
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147131
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I can only see their eyes in the dark, reflected in the light from my flashlight. It's so quiet. I only hear the sound of my own breath. I hold the flashlight steady. Maybe they will think I'm not a threat if I'm not moving. It's a small hope. Yet here we are, at a…
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98921
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...something darkly malevolent looming above him...
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109451
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There was no provision for keeping the post on the door, but I did not have the fingernails to pry it off.
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131231
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I stumbled out of the Ten Bells pub, still a bit tipsy from the absinthe, but had a clear vision of what I wanted to have happen this night. The air was cold on my rosy cheeks, so I shielded my face…
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87331
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I inhale the smoke from a burning cigarette
held between two stained fingers that are not mine.
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25231
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IA prophetic mile from the towering hill,tombs of ages lie.I open my eyes; I am stillin hieroglyph dreams of histories,nearby moans the sea, cold as usual, consecrated.Something created, destroyed,then in shadow, remade. The shore spouts forthold silence,…
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105222
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"Which way ought we to go from here," he asked.
She smiled again, "that all depends on where we want to get to." He nodded but didn't laugh so she sighed and strolled around the room, tuning and looking and considering her options.
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76421
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It seems a little solipsistic/
but may indeed be evidence of God//
given its mystery and caprice.
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100322
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his eyes see blood as circumstance.
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93851
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"I love you.”“Night.”Back at the screen door she answers “What?” I stand under her nose and say “Box is out of juice.” Inside she sits me on the black and white polka-dotted sofa we make love around here and there.…
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87622
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Cleopatra fills her cart with food and cosmetics until it is overflowing. She proceeds out of the store. The clerks stop running products over their scanners and gaze in incredulity, and confusion.
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106231
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It was the first warm day of a late-arriving spring. Ben was sitting in his divorce lawyer’s office on Maiden Lane in lower Manhattan.
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79741
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We can imagine an escalator as being a (conveyor) belt between two different states of consciousness. On the one hand (beginning or end, depending on how you see it) the lower (or higher) level, and on the other hand a progression or pro-‘motion’ of the f
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90022
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Biting off your own tongueBlistering boils, stumps of burnt hairChopping your hand off with a dull axeDrowning in a swimming pool of blood and pissDrinking dog puke from a brown paper bagEating the intestines of your uncle three months deadFalling into barbwire covered…
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62941
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My father pressed on,/
deliberate and calm,/
waiting for the ambulance
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119521
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He had expected more -- at least his grandfather's classic Packard touring car.
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139541
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Leo, leo, leo, leo, the word itself imprinted on my brain, carved with a pearl handled blade into my cerebral cortex, into the medulla, burrowed deep into my dreams, I miss your kissing.
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70441
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The mind likes logic, but the heart loves chaos. The light is always on in Reality, isn’t it? Maybe I sought you out to make sense of my life, I don’t know. Maybe I wanted some sense that you were still how I remembered you (at least a little of you tha
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104111
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#ShortStory #writers
are failed #poets...
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