Portrait

His face,
once as full
and richly hued
as a ripe apple,
had withered
to a collection
of lines and angles,
like a hastily drawn sketch.

— Justin Cronin, "The Passage"

Birds

Young men floated
up and down the streets
like pigeons,
roosting on this corner
or that and then
moving on,
all of it benumbed
with idleness
and vaguely ominous.

— Justin Cronin, "The Passage"

Lost

Did defeat
indeed
taste bitter?

Or was it
more akin
to ashes
on the tongue?

— Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan, "The Fall"

Still

The quiet in the house
after lunch was
of such density
that it nearly
stopped the clocks.

— Jonathan Franzen, "The Corrections"

Evasion

Do you miss him?

My divorce is the great unhappiness of my life.

That's an answer, Brian said.
But not to my question.

— Jonathan Franzen, "The Corrections"

Autumn

Cavalries of leaf
wheeled across
the bitten lawns.

— Jonathan Franzen, "The Corrections"

Gaze

Her open eye
was like
nearly black
balsamic vinegar
bleeding
on white china.

— Jonathan Franzen, "The Corrections"

Shot

He fell to the floor,
the world sucking him down
into an infinite cushioned maw
from which no escape
was possible.

Until there was only
endless silence
and eternal light.

— Burt Hirschfeld, "The Ewings of Dallas"

Awake

When dawn was still long hours away,
bad thoughts took on flesh
and began to walk.
In the middle of the night
thoughts became zombies.

— Stephen King, "Under the Dome"

Sequel

The doorman
places the bags
in the elevator

and says
before
the doors close,

cutting him off,
"Welcome back."

— Bret Easton Ellis, "Imperial Bedrooms"

Reality

She waited at the beautiful
dining room table,
the falsely distressed wood,
full of fake wormholes,
each flaw polished
and deepened as though
by generations of family dinners.

— Louise Erdrich, "Shadow Tag"

Married

A soul could be captured
through a shadow. ...
Gil had placed his foot
on Irene's shadow
when he painted her.

And though she tried
to pull away, it was
impossible to tug
that skein of darkness
from under his heel.

— Louise Erdrich, "Shadow Tag"

Fatal

When you die of sorrow
it's as if you've broken
all the bones in your body,
bruised yourself all over,
cracked your skull.
That's sorrow.

— Roberto Bolano, "2666"

Nostalgia

The days
when Hemingway
was on par
with movie stars

is long gone.

— Dave Gessner
http://billanddavescocktailhour.com/we-are-all-poets-now/
http://collinkelley.blogspot.com/2010/04/tinkers-tailors-soldiers-poets.html

Crying

Streaks
of rust
had run
like
ancient
bloody
tears.

— Stephen King, "Desperation"

Dark

The bandstand
was wrought iron,
and in it,
though it was
late at night,
insomniac
children
played.

— Roberto Bolano, "2666"
(translated by Natasha Wimmer)

Buttered

I laugh like crazy,
a laughter that bubbles
out like popcorn ...

— James Franco, "Just Before the Black"
(Esquire short story, April 2010)

RIP

"I think I am going to die."

She did not even blink
when she replied.

"That would be best,"
she said. "Then we could
both have some peace."

— Gabriel Garcia Marquez, "Love in the Time of Cholera"

Bruised

Red-tailed hawks
soared above
in the sky,
which was
purple like
the skin
of an Indian
woman beaten
to death.

— Roberto Bolano, "2666"
(Translated by Natasha Wimmer)

Scent

... they dug up the barbecue,
and a smell of meat and hot earth
spread over the patio
in a thin curtain of smoke
that enveloped them all
like the fog that drifts
before a murder ...

— Roberto Bolano, "2666"
(translated by Natasha Wimmer)

Stranger

The clown held a bunch
of balloons, all colors,
like gorgeous ripe fruit

— Stephen King, "It"

French blue

The sky in Paris
(shades of
Baudelaire,
Verlaine,
Banville)

— Roberto Bolano, "2666"
(Translated by Natasha Wimmer)