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The blood had been soaked up in sawdust—“this is hell.”

Living as the last artist in Manhattan: it’s the ultimate test of commitment.

Even if he lost her he would never disparage her, never not love her.

Now, with new orders to carry out, he’d been restored to factory settings.

Clark and Robertson got a reset, and Tuyen would get a baby. But Mikey?

L’chaim. To lives both bygone and ongoing, and to the truths I choose to believe.

I think you might have turned into a novelist, if we’d been allowed to go on.

The letter both pleased and disturbed her. Why did he get in touch?

It was up airly and down late with him, and the loom never standin’ still.

A coldness bumped a last kiss upon my cheek, a good-bye kiss sliding across.

Write simple sentences. Report. Don’t moralize. No pretensions.

The eyes looked into his own with a meaning, a malign significance.

He handed us sticks of dynamite, rolled in wax paper like taffy.

Jane’s made it clear, this Renuka might not even become a doctor.

She accused her husband with great drama of having destroyed her life.

The stupider the president the more power you arrange for him.

He only told the world what the world wanted to hear from a guy who graduated from Harvard.

Six other guests smoked Marlboro Lights, and ashtrays filled up.

Sneaking was one thing, entering a bar with a someone else’s ID another.

Kitty reached the age of twenty-five and was still unmarried.

I managed to talk sensible Alice into a little pink outfit and high heels.

I saw it on her face that day, a look like her heart would drift into the sky.

I look on Britain as a new world, which it is almost madness to invade.

Are these poems just cumbersome or a critique of cumbersomeness?

I lost myself in their minds: for the moment I actually became them.

Meghan Dunn

What would make a sane person want to watch such blood sport?

One felt all the poor lady’s barriers were falling save her manner.

If you want to know what to write, ask yourself what obsesses you.