`Over there, Bart, on the other side of the street,' Ella said, pointing to a vacant house, its uncurtained windows pasted with placards. It was an evening in early spring and they were strolling back along Rathmines Road in the last of the light, going towards Ella's house, which was just off the main road….
It’s unlikely that the caravan is going to get to you at all. You’re sitting under a date palm with Jean Genet. “When slaves make love,” he says, “they’re really doing something else.” ”What?” you’re about to ask him, when the words of Vauvenargues come to you. `It is equally a sign of weakness to…
A lump in your groin. A burning in your discharge. You cannot quit the cigarettes or the entire nights spent refining the pointless game of billiards. Setting the smoke of drugs adrift on the afternoon light, you salvage up a time perhaps when spring made a car look great and mascaraed girls from the lunchroom…
It was a bad time. Billy Boy Watkins was dead, and so was Frenchie Tucker. Billy Boy had died of fright, scared to death on the field of battle, and Frenchie Tucker had been shot through the neck. Lieutenants Sidney Martin and Walter Gleason had died in tunnels. Pederson was dead and Bernie Lynn was…
508. And behold! There were blossoms in the wind, and there were blossoms in the moving letters of the death warrant, and the wind moved them not, for behold the wind was stayed in its course, and there were flocks in the river, crossing the river, and the river moved against them, and behold no…
Oh my Sabine farm, when shall I see you, when again With old authors, with sleep and lazy hours Can I find sweet forgetfulness of painful life? Oh when will the beans (Pythagoras’ cousins!) lie close With the greens well oiled with fat bacon? Oh nights and feasts of the gods! when I and my…
"Hi, honey." "Oh, Daddy," Carolyn said. "It took you so long. Where are you calling from?" "The hospital," he said. "Where else? I haven't stuck my nose out of this cotton-picking place since eight o'clock this morning, and I don't feel like going home." "Well, how is she?" "I think she knew me, but she…
Tom and Nancy were walking along the esplanade. ”You see that guy walking ahead of us, with the shorts on? The one with so much hair on his legs. You know, I’d been looking at that guy for at least five minutes before I realized that he was also wearing a pair of black nylon…
How much too eloquent are the songs we sing. nothing we tell will tell how beautiful is the body. It does not belong even to him or her who lives in it. Beautiful the snail’s body which it bears laboriously in its way through the long garden. The old lady who lives next door has…
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