1903 8 7
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a dry bony voice/from a desiccated soul/coughs up its own throat.
|
183783
|
I was making good bread as a New York studio musician and jingle writer, anonymous back-room jobs.
|
183086
|
you hear the knell of kindness
long before its cathedral voices -- a recessional --
barters better times.
|
129185
|
The thrum and the thrust//
have beaten conviviality out of me.
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189986
|
wild eyes open your iris sunrise
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166784
|
Under no circumstances can you say "fuck" when you're working in a public library.
Especially in the junior room.
|
184187
|
The blues were born on the ghost train that rolled through the Delta and gave Memphis breath back in 1902. It's low moaning sound brought young black men running, dogs hot in pursuit, toward glory that danced in a moonlight…
|
244186
|
Shakespeare was Shakespeare, after all, the greatest poet the language has ever boasted: why did Shakespeare’s contemporaries even bother with their paltry efforts?
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172086
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Your faded presence in sepia dream returns, firelight whispers and vanilla scented ash. We were a beautiful knot: sinew and hemp, burlap and magnolia petal, concrete and vapor. Gray kisses hovered overhead, misty…
|
105582
|
With furrowed brow, he took the plastic stems and began to beat the blossom ends
against the black brick wall.
|
161281
|
The dowdy woman in fart nailed the vim.
|
170480
|
That dog again; enduring love.
|
132480
|
|
132187
|
arrogant, sullen,/
supple and ambiguous,//
English seems the ideal tongue
|
178085
|
And because the film is French, the camera pauses / long moments at the curve of her neck, it watches/ her finger vermilion tulips in a vase. Her new lover,/ a wisp of a man, looks good in leather./ The camera pans quickly across beige suede,/ rests long
|
245187
|
A brief commentary on the uselessness of endings.
|
134885
|
We love our other animals
|
159187
|
The first thing I saw was a sandal, but it didn't exactly look priestly. It was golden and glowing, and the foot it was strapped to had red painted nails. The straps wrapped around her ankles, and up her slender leg, tied off in a bow below the knee.
|
138482
|
I had ink for blood then and “the news” was my oxygen.
|
261886
|
Someone's shaking powdered sugar on the tree limbs. Someone's turned out the lights. It's a beautiful morning.
|
138787
|
The lecturers are retired professors from Oxford or Cambridge. They are snarky and wise and aloof.
|
169787
|
Tender veterinarian, even if you weren't so tall, or your eyes so warm, or your fingers so long, or if you didn't bend over my sick cat with such astounding grace, or shoot those quick, intense glances at me, I'd have woven dreams while in your uncommon presence. Vulnerable…
|
143685
|
Love me like a crutch
Love me when I'm strong
|
204385
|
On the table the image is by Chardin but the puzzle is by someone else and that is what he has dumped out of the box.
|
160587
|
It doesn't take a genius to figure how he sank, in the drink, like Jeff Buckley. Like a stone.
|
183783
|
I walked on hot coals. She got ahead of me. (228 words)
|
170383
|
He was supposed to be a garden gnome. Give pause to the squirrels, keep an eye on the impatiums. We found him at Wegman’s. He looked hopeful and observant.
|
162185
|
Not believing enough in God he was made unfortunate. Neither cursed nor damned; merely little things. Missing rides, running out of toilet paper, showing up late. Until, suspecting someone he had overlooked, he chose a God. The wrong One it transpired. Things…
|
123288
|
Pity would have been appropriate. Yet, townsfolk whispered behind his back. Shouldn't he do something about it. So lazy. A gluttonous swine. Hadn't his mother kept him too long at tit, breastfeeding ‘til four? Look. Look at him now. A fat man. Our enormou
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128881
|
If you had a choice, be a poet or not,
I’d suggest prose for the lines that you jot.
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