1273 6 3
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Meeting the past an inevitable outcome (this inside a future fortune cookie). Shame pierces her like a sudden migraine.
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156161
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Fucking buffalo, the curse of the writer.
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172066
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130265
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"Poets are damned but they are not blind, they see with the eyes of the angels."--William Carlos WilliamsThere is something beautiful I want to say to you that doesn't seem to make much more sense in a box of clever words like this one. It feels closer to…
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123666
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Tell me how beautiful I am and I'll dance for you Tell me how much you love my smile and I'll kiss you softly Paint a picture of me and I will lie still Let me see your smile and watch me exhale Rock me back and forth and my eyes close I see rocky shores and…
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10564
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The boy peered at the rather unusual place between the girl’s legs, which was entirely more complicated than a person might be given to believe should he see it, for example, bundled in underpants or a bathing suit.
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435864
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She remembered/Before the menses
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147064
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you tell
a stranger's story...
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101564
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When the truth is spoken, we don’t know
Where to look, as if we only know someone
Has gotten away with something big
Or stolen someone’s heart, knowing how easy
It was, how fragile, how true to itself
So open and weightless, without guile
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77463
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215660
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“Actually, children, none of us will be having birthdays this year,” my father sighed.
“Not even me? Why?” asked Charlie.
"Son, this is what's known as a ‘one-party democracy."
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173462
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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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150563
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It is midnight in Utah, but I can’t tell. It always looks like midnight in a cave.
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173965
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Resting bitch face strikes again.
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189065
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I have two memories of my dad. The first is a story he liked to tell: So my old woman came home one day with a worm. She sets the worm on the counter and goes into…
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150862
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She is trying to quit—nasty habit this smoking. Still, this is the only time she lets herself smoke these days: Laundry day.
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155762
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The sting of a slap will be remembered, as will sex, or at least a fragment of it, such as the face of a man in your room who tied your hands with the belt of your plush terry bathrobe.
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212964
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“I better go. My mom needs me at home,” she says. Soft. Smooth. Firm. Sweet. Maybe I’m pushing too hard. I kiss her on the cheek and she stiffens in response. My heart bleats.
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118261
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With a notch in his ear from an honor-mad fight
And a tail that is shorter than at last sunlight.
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172363
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I'm not sure if this is breaking the rules of Fictionaut, but here's a trailer of a poetry tour of Europe I did earlier this year. We hope to break it down into webisodes soon enough to highlight the brilliant readings, brilliant local poets and such that you can find not…
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71762
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hands slide into gloves unseen / eyes disappear behind glass / the crank turns the flywheel spins: / every octave has droppt low / sub-sonic shudders within—
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150461
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I would like to go back (with spade, pick, soft bristles), and sift through time and layers, brush away the intervening years, and find: the tooth, knocked out by my then best friend, when we were seven, careening downhill in my father's wheelbarrow on Boscobel…
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182362
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After she died, clearing out her safe deposit box at the local bank, I found more numberplates.
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164565
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The boy was sure of something,She was just the one. The girl was sure of nothing, Her life had just begun. For him, he'd found his partner, There was never any doubt. For her, he was fine for now, But there was more to learn about. He thought it was a perfect…
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207466
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Driving up to the Palisades after 9/11 for a meteor shower
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182966
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He begins talking about string theory. He reels me back in, from the dinosaurs to the infinite, human evolution and alternate dimensions, until it makes so little sense that everything makes sense.
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30465
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I write my new poem in the gardenBut not like Mary OliverMore like meDirt under my fingernailsReal dirtI can feel the grit of it Something that shouldn't be thereBut is.
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152362
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The machines are alive but she is not. The pads keep her face from being irritated but my mind isn't so lucky."Let me GO!" she cries....at least that's what I hear. They are waiting for permission for her to go. Eager hesitation best describes the tense…
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