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It wasn't hidden, exactly, but kept in a place where she wouldn't be expected to look: a photograph of Roger, naked and supine, looking at the camera without surprise.
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At that time I was meeting Jacob at 3:30 each afternoon in Joan of Arc Park so we could walk dogs together. This was our job.
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A convoy of military vehicles is heading into the city as we are heading out.
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Reams of saggy bunting intersect the streets.
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I charm as any stone-sculpted dream: / men grind themselves to dust on my breasts / in solitude poets spill and spew /
enraptured of my adamant clay.
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Ghostriders in the syand rainbows in my mindor was itrainbow in the skyghostriders in my mind?I can't remember ...And apparently this body is not 200 characters long, so I add some text so this pearl too can be read (ahum) My body is only 170 characters long, snif,…
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Some of the guys wear earplugs. They wear ‘em because they don’t wanna hear it. Oscar Livitt fucking. Nobody looks.
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The plane passes the runway, dips sharply, its shadow straight down below, too cold in the cabin, the sun hitting your arm like a machete below, it is 94, the humidity too, it has just rained for 3 days, it never rains this time of year......
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"Mama skipped the training bras and just gave me her old bras. I'll be 25 before I can wear her old bras..."
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A sizzling as skin and sinew melt, fall away. "Scream if you need to scream, child." And I scream, and her song gains strength. The warmth of her around me. It is time.
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Lipstick on the bolt, she told herself, if it's no good in the slot anymore.
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It was time to go sit outside in the sunlight with the gang of trust-funders, just to see what was new in the world of high finance and falling stock prices. “So, what's happening with the economy in China?” I asked. And they just stared at me as if I had
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135044
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This story* is brought to you by
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You gather their faces in the palms of your hands and their purple eyes blink, blink, unseeing.
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I give you the rattle of the rattlesnake. I give you a daub of creosote. I give you the metaphysics of glue.
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He'd sit or stand, as if this was common
to see: in the street walking by, such a man.
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I think I know these pigeons
They were once beggars
From another life
Once I myself was stuck like them
I was never
Without the thought of food
Or sex, or sipping soda pop
Off the sidewalk
And flying meant next to nothing
But then
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Tree full of dimes and dollars
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unwrapping
the gauze from her wrists....
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An excited state
with undiscovered borders, the almost space -
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However could anyone get Joyce scholarship mixed up with physical anthropology?
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We all wish to partake in great events.
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When we were on the road coming back out to California, along the Lewis and Clark trail somewhere near Cardwell, Montana, I remember thinking life was like leaping through flames while reading poetry and drinking rotgut red wine. This was what life was, a
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I told about the time during the early part of WW II when I shook hands with a member of the Flying Tigers. He was home on leave, and he stopped by to see my dad, who had been his scout master.
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She felt like she was turning into someone else, someone who appeared normal. She would be inundated with everyone else's ideas, morphing into an insipid lemming, smiling and bantering about mindless things. She wouldn't even care she had changed...
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109644
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The Managers are always to be found in twos or threes, lumbering greyly.——If you pass the Managers in a corridor it's a good idea to say hello. They will probably return your greeting, as best they can.——The Managers conduct meetings. They sit at the…
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I am the Poet Laureate of my bedroom
I am the Poet Laureate of 6065 Chabot Road, Jokeland
I am the Poet Laureate of the Loser Café
I have wind in my shoes if not my hair
I am the Poet Laureate of Karmic Impulses
Of tabloids and gossip
I am
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