Truth is a melody composed of lying notes.
Dennis VickersMots clés truth-melody
gleaming like a searchlight, Iowa moon, silver plate.
Dennis VickersMots clés simile
Gasps erupted from his nostrils like grouse from a thicket, schoolboys onto a recess yard, grease spatters from frying bacon.
Dennis VickersMots clés simile
Whacked away under the desk like hail on a barn roof.
Dennis VickersMots clés simile
If I sneezed, writers’ vitals would spew out my nose like bats from a cave mouth, fiery balls from a roman candle, water from an open fire hydrant.
Dennis VickersMots clés similes
Hung in the air like fart gas in an elevator, insecurity in a prom ballroom, guilt around a police lineup.
Dennis VickersMots clés simile
Vanished like inhibitions at a bachelorette party.
Dennis VickersExposed like butt cheeks at a strip club; chicken breasts, fleshy and sallow in the butcher’s case; tequila bottle soldiers lined up across the bar’s back wall.
Dennis VickersDivided like boys and girls at a summer camp, egg whites and yolks in grandma’s lemon-meringue-pie recipe, dogs and cats in pet heaven.
Dennis VickersStudied all year and wrote in my journal like a nun works a Rosary, dog with a new bone, bee in his hive’s back room.
Dennis VickersMots clés simile work-ethic
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