wjsullivan.net
Overloading the Machine
Another Take
- A Ticket to Scrawl
- A Trip Out at Night
- An Example
- Breathing Down Our Door
- Cu-bi-cle
- Encounter
- Epilogue
- Music, for an Exit Poem
- Fever
- Flight Paths Over Laos
- Fortune
- He & I See the Iris a Little Differently
- Here, the Sky
- Hotel Weather Report
- How Solemn!
- Last Night in Lansing
- Last Thursday
- Lottery000001
- Lottery000002
- Not Clouds
- Omelet
- Postcard (Boulder to Boston)
- Practice, in Ink
- Saturday Indoors
- Save Changes
- Sestina, for Foucault
- Sham
- So Many Had Carved Stone, So Many Had Carved Wood
- Some Come Home
- Taking a Walk
- The Bells Are Upon Us
- The Racket
- The Theory of the Phone
- The New Economy
- I
- A Filthy Impression, and Nothing Else
- Under My Rug
- Top of the Hour, Tip of the Hat
The countdown had stalled at 'T' minus 69 seconds when Desiree, the first
female ape to go up in space, winked at me slyly and pouted her thick,
rubbery lips unmistakably -- the first of many such advances during what
would prove to be the longest, and most memorable, space voyage of my
career.
-- Winning sentence, 1985 Bulwer-Lytton bad fiction contest.
This page was last modified on 2011 December 20.