Error message

The page you requested does not exist. For your convenience, a search was performed using the query poetry scene my copilot i crash moonbuggy.

Page not found

Fall / Winter 2002
Page 191 from Issue 112 "My wife tells me you write stories." ... Graciela, and three sons, Pablo, four; Carlos, three; Celestino, one and a half. "Omar is my ... "We shall see." What Else Could It Be? 1 squished my earplugs in as far as they'd ...
Spring 2003
a ticking clock. All I did was raise my hands at him, like fending him away, backing off from the horror of him. The beach was suddenly busier with movement, everyone hurry, ing. Only then did it strike me, my camera, my tape recorder! What was I doing, standing there like some fool? My hands were down rummaging ...
Fall 2003
and I run back into my bedroom, sliding on the tile floor in my socks, and quick lay down in my bed. She ... and everything, I want to know how much money he has now, my rich uncle! and I am pretending like I don't ... he's taking you out. I look at her once more with plead­ ing in my eyes for her to tell me ...
"Another girl. They're both gems." I've forgotten to take off my shoes, so she lifts my foot onto the footrest and tugs at the laces. She's changed in these few years. Ma­ ... blouse. On her forehead, at her hairline, a nut-brown spot the size of my fingertip is shaped like ...
of my parents' farmhouse, on a country road near the Delaware River. We're drinking white wine. Frank Sinatra is playing on the stereo-"My buddy," Frank sings, "your buddy misses you"-when I mention Governor McGreevy. My parents are life-long Democrats. ...
a donkey, I slapped its butt-I believed if the donkey were my uncle, he would definitely not allow me ... so it seemed none of them was my uncle. But the owners were hot to fight me, and said, Hey kid! Where did you get to be so free with your hand? It looked like my uncle hadn't come up ...
Page 72 from Issue 123 in Beijing; and managed to steal some leisure time from my busy sched­ ule ... leather sandals and knee socks. By then I would get absent, minded, forgetting my intention to use my nose ... I'd often remember that I had some' thing else to do, so I'd remove my nose from her ...
I said, how I yelled at my blues the Sidney way, how I worried about Sweetie now, how I sneaked her into my bed at night. In some way there is no escap­ ing a mother, even when she isn't there. ... My mother said, "Look at those bug eyes, she's so plain." To my mother, ...
of water trailed behind. I settled into my stance. "Hold up, Jackie." My dad rested ... above his head. He refused to watch. "Serve it up," said my dad. His arms flexed ... as if looking for shapes in the clouds. My dad's determination felt extravagant. I fired the first ...
I was thirteen, my sister twelve. We'd felt so grown up coming home from school on our own, remembering ... Except when my mother listed to Johnny, she didn't do homework or anything productive-instead, she'd sob into the couch cushions leaving tiny mascara smudges. Before my mother went away, Grammy said, ...

Pages