Life was a battle, and Mother a tired and bitter captain
Make it bend — trees are flexible, so they don’t snap. Scar it, give it a twisted branch — perfect trees don’t exist. Nothing is perfect. Flaws are interesting. Be the tree.
Maybe your son didn't get that job because he's not good enough. Or he's lazy. Or the other guy was better than him, no matter what his skin color. I think the white people who have been here for two...
Mr. Freeman sighs. No imagination. What are you thirteen? Fourteen? You've already let them beat your creativity out of you!
Never underestimate dainty little ladies.
Ninth grade is a minor inconvenience to him. A zit-cream commercial before the Feature Film of Life.
No wonder the zombies were crazy. They thought they were supposed to practice breeding before they learned how to do their own laundry. They talked about it, thought about it, maybe did it, all while...
Odysseus had twenty years to shed his battle skin. My grandfather left the battle field in France and rode home in a ship that crawled across the ocean slowly so he could catch his breath. I get on a...
Our frog lies on her back. Waiting for a prince to come and princessify her with a smooch? I stand over her with my knife. Ms. Keen’s voice fades to a mosquito whine. My throat closes off. It is hard...
Picasso sure had a thing for naked women. Why not draw them with their clothes on? Who sits around without a shirt on, plucking a mandolin? Why not draw naked guys, just to be fair? Naked women is art...
Principal Principal stormed in yesterday, smelling pleasure. His mustache moved up and down, a radar sweep for all things unruly. An unseen hand turned off the radio as he crossed the threshold, and b...
Sarah wrote to the president himself, Zachary Taylor. He refused. Did that stop Sarah? No! She waited for the next election and wrote to the new president, Millard Fillmore. He said no, too.Did that s...
Shame, turned inside out, is rage.
She even tried to teach us the difference between active voice—I snarfed the Oreos—and passive voice—The Oreos got snarfed.
So why does everyone make such a big hairy deal about me not talking? Maybe I don't want to incriminate myself. Maybe I don't like the sound of my voice. Maybe I don't have anything to say.
Some stand-up comic cracks, 'No, Melinda no es linda.' They call me Me-no-linda for the rest of the period. This is how terrorists get started, this harmless fun.
The sentences build a fence around her, a Times Roman 10-point barricade, to keep the thorny voices in her head from getting too close.
The taste of shame smellslike stubborn vomit in your hairlingering no matter how often you was itsometimes you have to shaveyourself baldand start again like a newly hatched chickleaving the faint rot...
We fall into clans: Jocks, Country Clubbers, Idiot Savants, Cheerleaders, Human Waste, Eurotrash, Future Fascists of America, Big Hair Chix, the Marthas, Suffering Artists, Thespians, Goths, Shredders...
We should teach our girls that snapping is ok, instead of waiting for someone else to break them.
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