Bobby

He steps back and gazes at the stadium. It is a muddle of colors and sounds and it does not help him concentrate. He spits. He bites his tongue and stares at the pitcher.

Three Answers to Her Question, What Was That?

1. The flutelike fingers of Paris pickpockets 2. Only the wind thinking to itself 3. The sun up before dawn cleaning the shotgun

A Brief History of American Literature

Poe raked lizards from trees in the yard at night. Melville slept with common seamen. Black cars hurried past. Burroughs wouldn’t remove his hat. Everyone drank to excess, the Lindbergh baby stashed in the house next door.

For A Slave to Junk Food

WHAT!

A Quiet Night In

“Well, no thanks. In this city, what you think will be three inches because of what some weatherman said a few hours ago can turn into ten inches and an ice storm. I’ll be staying in."

02:10:31

“Pause the tape just right, just a second before the plane hits,” Jeff says, staring at the screen, “and think of all those people you save.” Taking a shot of bourbon, it dribbling down his chin, down the front of his shirt, he says, “Freeze it just right, and you still got the towers.”

What Can Ail Thee, Knight at Arms?

He asked me to do it. I understood immediately, predicting the words before they dribbled from his antediluvian lips such that, as they came, I found banality in them. I held back my reproach, however, his cracked lips suggesting to me that this day had been preceded by many days of anxiety.

Far From Trashmen

English Manners