1278 6 5
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To listen is to feel embodied reason//
sing and dance with consummate grace
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160067
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The wind is wet today I can't tell you where sky meets sea only that it matters I can't explain why. I've triedCan't see the horizonbut I know that we have drawn itfingers tracing far pastthe edge of blind infinitywhere we sang stars to sleepand pinned our…
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143567
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The last night, I shivered in bed until three a.m.,
the blankets wouldn’t work,
or the socks,
or my tears,
but I reassured my heart
that my next love would be warmer.
He was.
And our air conditioning bill was so high we could’t afford it.
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180363
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Your finger quivers as it writes
Upon me words in water,
Words I cannot read nor drink
But feel them as you drink
Them with your tongue
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121865
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Mother hated a crucifix. Graven, she said. Evidence that Catholics weren't saved, just stuck in ceremony. Jesus had risen and anyone who had to pray in Latin, count beads or confess to robed men who took orders from a monarch didn't know…
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156565
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They think Van Gogh heard music when he looked at his starry nights. Working at a Bingo parlor, you get to believing in a one-in-a-million shot just as much as you doubt the rarity of a sure thing.
I only worked part time at the bingo parlor because I ne
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132665
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Mice dreams are a reality ...
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114064
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He peels the garlic while I stir the lentils; he chops the cilantro while I peel kale leaf from stem. Also, the rings. Also, no one is going anywhere.
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80261
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When collapse is a wave that curls the floor under itself I give myself to it
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135763
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Pringy practices an aesthetic variant of the “muscular Christianity” that is a tradition at Groton; a program of Sunday poetry classes for boys who violate the school’s ban on swearing.
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130764
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It was 6 a.m. when the phone next to the bed awakened Francesco.
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127064
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Agents I have little idea. Woiwode partly supported his family in the 60s by publishing in The NYer (his friends were De Niro and Barthelme) so perhaps there was little trouble in his finding one. E.W. met his at a bar. He publishes in Paris and Texas.
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180863
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circa the early 90s, Buzz Aldrin and my father had been invited to a dinner at someone's house on Bainbridge Island and gotten lost.
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125266
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129165
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I found a diseased fish / wedged between some boulders near the pier
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27164
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I offer you an orangeYou say you'd prefer an appleI offer you an orangeYou say, noI want an appleYou say you had a bad experienceWith eating an orangeHmm, I sayYes, but what does it matter?You say you are not eating the orangeUnder no circumstances will you everEat an…
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76765
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For PearlSo radiantly a threat to themare you, so radiantly a threatyou present, my dear, but between usthere is still that unspoken pact; justone more song, please. So radiantlyyou fill their cups with the beauty ofleaves and grapes. So radiantly yoursmall reassuring smile…
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84763
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I sit in a café
and watch the near palms of summer
swaying against the far ridge of hills
and young girls walking along
in their sleeveless summer dresses.
Their shoulders speaking their
long history of sex
and future children,
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82165
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Borgo said 1979/So Borga remembered 1979/for him, just in case,/for what if:/
a driver license/or an act of god/or a marriage license/or even a lease/for an apartment/you never know, she said/
so he said, okay/you remember,/so she did.
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65764
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This is what I am saying now.
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234560
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Slipstream features strange events in a typical world whereas New Weird features typical events in a strange world.
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170364
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"Fax the Beaver" was its last, secret title. The beaver is a dirty trick, and it belongs on the index card.
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132961
|
I do not know what zinzins is, what a zinzins is, who zinzins is.
I do not want to know
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131364
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I woke up to the humming
of an empty space in the shape of a sweatshirt,
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137565
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I'm fascinated by Don's evolution . . .
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223866
|
Others climbed
trees for a
hopeful sighting.
|
175562
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We came to the furthest reach of hell-
A place that email users know well.
The woman or man whose unmitigated gall
Causes him or her to hit "Reply all".
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125566
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And here’s a picture of you
at the end of the line
to the great toilet of
fiction, waiting to
relieve yourself, quick
before the poetry gets to you.
Or worse, the actual
poets.
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123864
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when you betrayed the vain ambition of my death,/I did not complain.
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75963
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