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Most of life, it
turns out,
is pathetic.
Very little is funny.
We have to generate our
own laughter.
Canned laughter
may have to do.
Even if we have to carry
the can around our neck
like a Saint Bernard
or strapped to our
hip
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73551
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I sit in a small office amongst a huge pile of letters picking out individuals and arranging them on a big square made of something like paraffin
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35452
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I Am My VoiceRegimes may throb and dreams may smoke but my sisters' thoughts they'll not revoke. Through rock that quivers, through concrete stream, our reds and yellows, they'll dazzle and teem. My womanliness need not be feminine not that the feminine…
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98952
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If Heaven holds forth its own Infinity, What of selves, of ours, could we stand to see? Cradled with harsh fangs of Memory, Deep forgetfulness, give rather me- Let bright dreams be our self's divinity: Forever holds, in morrow's hours, such little…
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103656
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beckoning with citrus streaks blue cobbled streets/and stuccos lit with gold lamps guide strollers here/to Place du Forum in Arles and this café . . .
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86054
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I flipped a large cardboard coin
On one side it said
Abundance
But on the other side it said
Scarcity
I went to the store
And began packing everything I could get
Into my shopping cart
But the things that started spilling over
Onto the
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97954
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Even mockingbirds are scarce;
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13554
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This is not about you Although you are stone cold and sexy
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63554
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in clotted abattoirs where Sorley saw: / no animals shorn of their skins and flesh / could spy with envy the men killing them.
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109251
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It’s as she reaches into the fridge for the carton of half-and-half with the grainy waxy photo of the little girl—Last Seen 10/2/06—that the memory surfaces:
“Hey. That’s mine.”
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24353
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107753
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—Jesus, a snoring cat. No wonder Alex put this cat outside.
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63152
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"Benny can't come over anymore."
I was 12.
Latchkey kid, but we didn't call it that.
Mom working in another town.
Dad working in another town.
My brother.
2.
My responsibility.
"Why? Why not?"
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49454
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A poem not about fog written in fog with an erasable pen.
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125953
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The electricity animates my body into myclonic dance. I do not rest. I dance with the demons; I dance with Nijinsky rage. I dance with the fury of Saint Vitus and his wooden cross. My shoes are fashioned with my own fear, tanned and stretched over my feet
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114656
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Sometimes I think living in a house with so many rooms /
you can get lost just making your way to the fridge /
should be enough. I chastise myself for wanting more.
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105153
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“There is a fine line between love and hatred.” This was what his closest friend, Bob Sanders, had said to him many years ago. And it had finally and irrevocably proven to be so.
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113140
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We were pushing ninety down the highway through a stretch of what rightfully should have been called the Badlands. We were both absorbed and coping with the rapidly escalating stages of desperation and so neither of us noticed when the yellow figure stepped…
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105442
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No freebies. You want to read it, you have to read all of it.
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95843
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Even the fruit from the nearby orchard (which I, in part, nourish) batters my stone to rot.
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108942
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Maggie leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the Greyhound bus window. Over the river and through the woods, she thought watching the snow west of Interstate 95 melt away into skinny pines and palmettos. Brunswick 2, Jacksonville 70, slid by riding a …
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116442
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They waited not a moment longer than was necessary But moved right in and
Began their loathsome ch
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95742
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III. Through wheelwind crypts of mystery, through…
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72242
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From 'Excelsior' (fifth section) - a poem in 9 parts. So this is what begins at thirty? Thirty-five, And waiting. Those make love with water mildly, they That sink and skim the tide's meridian fingers: Brown swans that bob the blue orb's plumbing sheer. So this has…
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262041
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The pulsing of her little life. I sniff my fingers, deep sniff, ummmmm! Again! Deep back in my mind, like Momma smelled, spicy and ripe.
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87340
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We spent that entire winter with shaky hands and shrunken egos.
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98442
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He adopts a stance known as Part the Wild Horse’s Mane but calls it a different name--the Part the Hair of the Skanky Barmaid for a Bleachjob position.
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112340
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103641
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Pinnacles
State Park
lying on our backs
stoned on hash
around a campfire
looking up at the
clear see-through
blue green stars
to the other side
of the universe
I know now
you are out there
I float up to
within 2
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69541
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#1. No chocolate or dessert ads of any kind after 8 p.m.
#2. No names such as Wild Ferret, Backhoe, or Bunny Bacon allowed on the internet
after hours.
#3. No Smoky Motor Cars
It’s the New Society. All will be well, after dark. Remember, only the
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