74 writers inspired by greed …
scroll down for tastes …
to purchase, click here for paperback / ePub / Amazon Kindle / B & N NOOKbook / Kobobooks / iBookstore
return to Greed 7 Deadly Sins Vol. 3 in the Store
These assignments aren’t doled out to just anyone. Seasoned operators, that’s who gets them. / from Moving Up by Foster Trecost
Picking up soaking hitch-hikers / and pulling up weeds in a stranger’s garden / are as self-indulgent as eating a big bowl of ice-cream / from Introduction to Philosophy by Edward O’Dwyer
Equal shares, y’know? / Fifty-fifty seems right, right? / from Not Too Much to Ask by Ron Lavalette
The problem right now is the enemy isn’t the other team, it is Gary’s own team. / from Enemies by Joe Mills
In a sixth-floor room my dentist / conspires with his instruments / from Semaphore: Another Self-Elegy by William Doreski
… we couldn’t help pestering him with questions anyway: How long will it go for? What type of notes will it be, mostly? Do you have a whatsit, a strategy, Dad? / from The Booth by Andrew Grenfell
All of these are mine. Lakshmi gave them to me / and you cannot have any / from Mulberries by Michael Brownstein
Heiress of the house / provides buffet / I covet her daily organic kale / from Mansion full of art by Chuka Susan Chesney
After days of wrestling with my initial shock, I resolved to ask for the clay vase and the rug back / from Plunder by Caroline Smadja
I’m at the tail end of the cavalcade; / I observe how my Turtle People fade. / from Lamentation of the Odontochelys by Karla Linn Merrifield
It was said of him that he had more rivals who wished him gone than did an organized crime boss. / from Lieberman by Larry Lefkowitz
Black is the color. The mannequins wear / very little summer orange yellow green. / from Black in Manhattan by Dennis Wayne Bressack
To my knowledge, not one single Indian lived in Oil City, PA, so where the hell did the bill come from? / from Catch a Tiger by Cynthia Leslie-Bole
There were so many ways to die that day: / in the jaws of the combine, sliding on / cracked vinyl seats / from The Sunshine of Beer by Barbara A. Meier
But Granny, I said Frank is in the boot of the car, and I can’t just go away and leave him. / from Poor Frank by David Rae
I hope you understand that now, even though you want more than I can give. / from Toast by Nod Ghosh
An echo of slot machines is heard / Buzzing like a bank safe alarm / from Atlantic City Blues by Lisa Rhodes-Ryabchich
She introduced him to the harem, and they smiled. One of them squeezed his bicep. / from Fake Eunuch by Robert Scotellaro
The woman prances down the street with / her right hand dangling, four diamond / rings on four fingers, respectively. / from Too Much Greed by Claire Feild
When footy season arrived, I asked Dad if he would get me a new football. He said I should add it to my Christmas or birthday list. / from An Exceptional Young Whine by Peter Lingard
… these clothes were / salvaged from state funeral homes / from methodist makeover by Carl ‘Papa’ Palmer
So, friend, if you should find yourself grasping for just a bit more / of anything than you truly need / from Apotheosis by Howard Brown
Property was relatively cheap back then and we had plans to buy enough land to open our own artists’ community. / from Something Snapped by Wayne Scheer
The clouds are intercontinental, in a slow motion parade to and from the horizon just over there / from BlurBlurBlur by Piet Nieuwland
I feel an intense need, almost a mania, a compulsion to snatch him out of the arms of anyone who is holding him … / from Chaos Theory by Michael Webb
“Here, have mine,” I passed the plate of sugary jam doughnuts to my aggressor with a smile. / from The Sugar Assassin by Jo Davies
Is Jenny prettier recycled / or in fresh pajamas? / Do we get more stories / if she turns our way? / from The Rich Die Higher Up by Ted Mico
“I hope the car’s here when we get back,” Olivia sniffed. / from Goodness and Mercy by Linda Tyler
Going from one thrift shop to another, he snatches up / all manner of old silver cutlery, porcelain cats, hatboxes, / a vintage Crock-pot / from My Son Can’t Get Enough by Ruth Sabath Rosenthal
She was interrupted in mid-utterance by Kiernan, the economics teacher, who flipped his head over to the black limousine hovering by the pedestrian crossing. / from Sunday by Edward Reilly
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
PURE SLUSH ... books • books • books • more books 