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Tonight’s concert was called Desert.
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Desert Storm, an Infrared Dream/Poem by the late David Avidan
On January 17, 1991 I woke up at 02:45 from a neo-surreal dream with a slight not very serious feeling of suffocation a pre-asthma attack instantly stifled with the inhalation of Ventolin an
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You had that quietness by nature (unusual in men) that I was attracted to. You were like some body of water, wide and more spiritual than anyone I knew. You could have taken me with you when you flew. I know you were more like a bird than any of the oth
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Ricky imagines bending her over his conga, yanking that bushy dark ponytail like reins and ripping into her. He sits, watches, legs crossed, smoking a cigarette. He needs a dancer for the Jezebel number now that Connie is showing. This girl would make a f
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Dark morning sleet whitecrusts the world
once more, shrouds remains
of January thaw:
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We crept to the edge of the cliff and stared down at Lake Travis. In this alcove, out of the churn of the speedboats and pleasure craft, the water shimmered, impossibly blue.
“Didn’t you used to jump off here back when you were getting high?” Ryan said
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The young monk rose early to jog,
his appetites trailing like
cats in heat.
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She said “I have to go”, he answered with his eyes “Don't” and they stepped closer to each other in the kitchen, a step on the tiled floor, the remnants of their tea cold on the counter top.
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Of course the man went tumbling, and though he fell not far, a falling with a body full of meats and sweet breads makes the landing something awful-not so bad that Desperate got it-only so the leg puffed like a blue, rain swollen, earth-bound cloud.
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The scarred heart pumps its viscous blood.
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As the other mammals go extinct,/
we can’t presume we are immune//
because of big brains and a history/
of belief in the control of nature.
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“Your husband is an asshole, isn’t he?” he asks.
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With a madman’s laugh, she realized her mistake and discarded it as irrelevant.
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She called for land usage to fulfill a social function, to provide an affordable and sustainable way of life for all.
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. . . why did it take so long?
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Then it started extruding tendrils and tying them all into intricate knots.
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The oven door topples off of its hinges as she kicks and climbs out. She growls and quickly slaps out her still smoldering sweater shoulder. Taking a kitchen chair by the back, she swings it over her head and shatters the window. The chair breaks into splinters as she…
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In dreams begin responsibilities--Yeats I'm writing this story to tell you about a mistake, despite the fact that you might find it boring or might consider my writing style onerous or overeager. I begin with…
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Un consejo esconde un futuro desastre. Es como si Mar le dijese a Desierto "amigo...impresionante. Dejate elevar por la atracción de Luna y verás". Y Desierto le replicase "está bien, y tú Mar, deja que Viento lleve tus olas hasta el nacimiento de los ríos, es brutal". …
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I grew up in Detroit, and even though I haven't lived there since I was 18, I'm still a Michigander at heart. I'm also a (retired) bankruptcy attorney.You can probably tell where this is going. I own a Detroit municipal bond. It's a sewer bond, which means…
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He rolls in unbidden across the stubble fields /
Old acquaintance astride a newly booming cloud/
Under sky an alien shade of strawberries whipped/
Her watch stops ticking out the rest of her/
scheduled breathing poses
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Charlie is hollering about Rex again. Every dinosaur right now is Rex. Also Rex: every animal with thick-looking skin--elephants, crocodiles. (Yesterday, he pointed to an ant and told me, "Buggy Rex.")
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I tried to enlighten them. For my trouble, they tried to have me deprogrammed. I condemned their narrowness of mind; they pitied me my naiveté. I ridiculed their religious bourgeois complacency, but they really didn’t know what I was talking about.
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At night she goes to dance clubs with friends. She wears T-shirts with glitzy graffiti across her chest. She's letting the green striped side of her hair grow out.
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This wasn't going to be about her anymore.She tied her strong purple balloon to the neck of the wounded horse. Her skirt and her top felt like armor's breath. The tingle across her scalp felt warm. Small rug scrapes that made her think of her last dog, before she died.This…
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I am studying the way/
dust bunnies emerge, grow/
and apparently reproduce.
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I am asking for something as simple as water. In an oak tree, weeping, a child climbed too high. Tears that the barkstain will never wash clear. O love. We ask far too much when we fall. In a momentary lapsus, the words…
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On the days I wasn’t there, my insides felt like paper-mâché.
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I pointed to the strange man. “Who’s this?” I said.
Ethan looked puzzled. “That’s a man with his head on fire.”
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