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Matt was among those rare creatures; an ideal kind of reader ...
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wonder
at all the things done
without regard for you at all.
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She'd had every reason to believe he'd be difficult, though he wasn't.
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Like a small meteorite, a white cloud falls. The journey seems to have been long since it cannot spring up again, its wings being exhausted. Like a scared and shivering bird, it curls into my hand. Its apparent fragility prevents me from tightening my grip. A unique…
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The sirens didn’t eat the sailors
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Gotta be jumpin'
gotta be hummin' some tune
even when I'm alone
I'm flirtin' with the moon
(back down below)
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This story is dedicated to Matthew Paust
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The woman who lives on the first floor once loved dancing naked for her lovers.
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It was 14:24 official eBay time. Louise had spent hours looking at over 30,000 items under “Elvis Memorabilia"
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Our ink was disappearing. All of it.
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No one is going to find us. And even if they did it's just a play someone wrote with you in mind as the lead. No one is going to find us. I could have told you this but I didn't want to spoil your newfound fun. No one is going to find us. The funny…
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day dreams, at last!
Timetables colliding, time tables
alarm clocks
Sunday stew
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"Polio?" people wondered. They asked: "Is that contagious?" Nobody knew. It was 1953. The epidemic raged on. Children in some towns were being made to stay indoors during the polio season for fear that the disease was airborne. It was putting an unnatura
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When words were first born
They were like pure prayer
I could see them in the sky
And hear them whispering through your hair
But now they’re like dreams
That only sorrow owns
We still need the sun
We need to find
Solace on the ground
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in dark recesses of this morgue of earth / where beauty of the good does not compel, / where evil's horrors seldom do repel— / Americ gods reign o'er from birth to birth.
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The gated community of Dos was named for one of Babbage’s landmark educational figures, Ms. Dos.
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in the chicken house
this morning. The second
one this week. I carry the stiff hen
out to the back pasture
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IThe squirrels danced in the treesthey leapt from branch to limbto the struck down tree trunkthick with barkthe creek was overfilledlightening had lasted for days"Just one more day,"she told herself"Just one more day,"before the sun comes out againthe lightening had cracked…
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On a dark evening in March there’s a 50/50 chance of an immediate absorption of fission into the bloodstream of certain birds.
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“Okay, so I'm lying naked in this coffin with my big dick out,” George W. Bush says. “Yes!” …
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