We’ve been lucky enough to publish many, many brilliant, original, and moving pieces — and there are several amongst them that could easily be included within this list. But these pieces here, these are five that, for whatever reasons, have stayed with me.
We’ve been lucky enough to publish many, many brilliant, original, and moving pieces — and there are several amongst them that could easily be included within this list. But these pieces here, these are five that, for whatever reasons, have stayed with me.
A girl boarded the train. Actually, she was no longer a girl, because she was about thirty. But there was something in her behaviour and her appearance which suggested that, body aside, she was still a girl.
I don’t want to put him on the spot / and I know I’d think less of him / if he gave the wrong answer. Instead, / I name names in my head, a long list / of friends who would have let me die.
I went out to my mailbox. / Everything was addressed to a previous / occupant (twice removed) / who is now, / according to my neighbors / deceased.
Of course, we miss somebody. We always wish somebody was here. But when somebody is not here, we have a little freedom to do as we please.
It’s like a shadow on your bedroom wall— / you never think it’ll reach to grab your throat / until you stand just right before the night- / light and it does—
I know her / by the way she faces the world / straight–backed and solid, / one branch holding itself / a little higher.
I always knew I would
marry a rich man.
You think I am joking.
I assure you I am not.
Once I wrote a remarkable fairy tale and decided to take it to Little Trolley, a children’s gazette. I walked into the editorial office, and sitting right there on the table was the editor, thoughtfully gazing at the ceiling.
“Just think,” he was musing to himself, “how much free space that ceiling has. You could put a couch there, or a couple of armchairs, or even a television.”
The dead have their own way of doing things. Things the living don’t / understand. To the dead, the living are dead.
Once there lived a redheaded man without eyes and without ears. And he did not have hair, so /
they called him redheaded just so they could have something to say.
you gentle faces in the September light, you / gentle faces of West Germany, tired and sad, / you gentle faces, hungry for cunt, cock, / tits, hungry for an exotic everyday
Lil’ B is the perfect example of a highly functioning retard. I’m mad he fucked my grandma, dumped her in a forest and then stole her jewelry. He’s making his bread and butter off coonery. Let that boy grandma cook.
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