“So[,] Pop, are we going

I don’t[,] see it anywhere

trees don’t mean no spirit of Christmas[, ;] I want us to have the best

smarty pants,[,] I am givin’ you

“It’s just that[,] last year[,] instead of getting us one of those fancy trees for Christmas, you dragged in the dead Rosemary plant.

dang Gu’mment![” Well boy

“Pop[,] why

Merryweather Morningsong
Played his fiddle all day long
Even when he went to bed
He played fiddle in his head

“I have never, ever in all my years of playing, officiating, and watching seen anything this vicious.” Both teams were a bit stunned as the official stood on his tiptoes spraying Don’s face, “That, sir was completely uncalled for; kicking and raking an opponents head with your boots is far beyond the spirit of this, a gentlemen’s, game”

She had supported and tolerated him for those years and the dark years that followed. Through it all she had managed to gather laugh lines in addition to the barely perceptible crows’ feet that were crawling onto her soft face.

she was good, He had

The Panic Room--a movie about a bunch of stupid thieves trying to get Jodie Foster to come out of the closet. Good luck with that.

Forget turning over a new leaf, Ravi seemed to have turned over the whole tree.

so his father [so saw] no apparent change in his work habits

We garnished each branch like a fat Christmas pig
The angel on top, still needed a wig
Her hair had been caught on another display
While packed in the attic since New year's day

We garnished each branch like a fat Christmas pig
The angel on top, still needed a wig
Her hair had been caught on another display
While packed in the attic since New year's day

where I see [an] iridescent plume of smoke

More clumsy practice at being a thirty something woman alone.

The snow has already begun to stick, and the streets are a mess of white snow and clear ice.

I knew it is probably not the best living situation

streets, and tall buildings. i look

A long strange trip..

What power I must possess
to wend my way
up through the barrier
of this unyielding space.

Christmas lights. Peculiar critters with both minds and lives of their own! It doesn't matter how carefully they are put away the previous january. It doesn't matter at all!
Because over the course of the year they meet, mingle, mate and wear themselves out so that brightly beamng bulbs of Christmas past flicker weakly now and join the lost socks and mittens in Where-ever land.

...as well as rail at the fates[;] condemning them to nothing more...

From New Jersey and Florida
And Arizona, white-haired forever children drove
And flew, riding their seaside pals
In their collective memories,

Piles of fabric, muslin and wool, calico, brocades—I look ‘til I’m full.
Up on a shelf out of little hands' reach are fancy hats of mauve and peach.
Metal strapped barrels with pickles in brine, cure-all tonics by Doctor Fitzlyme.
A checker board where the old men play, as they sit and spit most of the day.

Barrels of flour stacked higher than me, ten penny nails- Oh[,] so much to see.

The rumbling sound becomes a cadence, heart beats matching click for clack
Watching shrouded trees retreating, looking forward, never back.

Arriving at Uncertain Station[,] as pre[-]dawn clouds obscure the moon[.]
Looking over shoulder, watching. Checking schedule—leaving soon.

Pay the tatters of my soul for a ticket to escape;
From the endless woes of living, from the pain of bruise and rape.

I feel the train begin my journey to some[space]place far [away] from here.

“Miss, We are almost there!”

Look out Freedom, I’ve come home now,[. or ;?] Look out World, I have Arrived!

No. you are off your rocker

Argaeux stood a few hands away, holding his crossbow

sort of dagger-under-the-cloak work, and they were already moving

way Toulon did?," Yutin asked

At almost the same time, that guard yelled, "all clear up here."