115 5 5
|
I rang the bell and there she was, black hair feathered and blow-dried like an Italian Farrah Fawcett-Majors, big boobs filling her tight softball jersey, round ass squeezed into painted-on Jordache jeans.
|
1086126
|
Have you heard this yet? The daughter flew home to care for the mother, whose pump is still tick ticking—though now with aid—which means she leaves the kitchen when the microwave clicks on.
|
5554
|
lacquered restaurants where men, even in this torpid weather, wear black tie and prissily fold their hands so they won't spill their drinks
|
158766
|
It drifted into the sea, I say, when you ask me about home. You’ve only known me for a few moments, so you’re not sure how to gauge me. You laugh, and make an Annabel Lee reference. The English teach in me wants to hug you. The New Jersey in me wants
|
155210
|
But she knew what she would find. She knew it all the moment she felt the sticky fingerprints behind the slat of her old oak slay bed. The fingerprints that would only be left from a person grabbing it from behind their head. The fingerprints that she
|
18232421
|
These days, even God has a day job.
|
137698
|
If you get crushed in New York City
that's your own problem.
|
23944
|
pieces of lint
from some heaven
unknown
|
110396
|
A horizon shrinks a burden until it’s a seagull getting fat off vinegar fries. I’m in love with the way your mouth moves when you aren’t talking. When it fills with salt.
|
