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"As the thing lurches upright, I can see now that it is an old woman with snake eyes… a dead old woman with snake eyes and peeling flesh. She is putrid and maggoty. She is coming right at us. She is my mother."
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110544
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But in 1991 Carmen developed a heroin habit and was forced to sell her powder blue, convertible Mercedes 500SL...
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Some things stay with you. I got off the bus, petted my dog, Nick and walked in our house and saw Mother at the kitchen table, crying and clearly angry. I asked her if she was sick. She works. She said that she didn't go to work today and might not go tomorrow…
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Our Lord Savior Google/ answers prayers without prejudice/ and leaves the self-hatred up to you
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The brain had elected itself Judas, sleazy loud with silver jangling In this grand guignol of new and quickly old concussion Limbs roasted themselves to occult temperatures Yet remained whitely chilled under air that strove to rub, scrape, signify …
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The mind likes logic, but the heart loves chaos. The light is always on in Reality, isn’t it? Maybe I sought you out to make sense of my life, I don’t know. Maybe I wanted some sense that you were still how I remembered you (at least a little of you tha
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There are times when she is heavy and times when she is light.
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they tried to trick the sun
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the start of what you predicted
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... the rift of losing you was jagged and violent ...
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The DC-9 bounced in the turbulence over the north Pacific waking the dozing Ben Clarone.
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China refuses them politely,
politely in that Communist way
of saying without saying.
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Story of my life: I was ready for a nightcap and she was just beginning her night.
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5. To hate one's race is always overrated;We built fair cities where there were no huts.The Frankfurt School should all have been castrated,And strung up by a noose made of their guts.Marcuse, you have caused the death of Europe,With Gramsci, Adorno, Freud and all…
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When I was younger, I tried very hard to be myself, but it never worked. I'd close my eyes, wait a beat, open them and slowly bring them into focus. This is the new me, the only me. Never worked, not once. It could only last a minute or two, so I…
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The Chicago River is an artery of great renown in the history of the city, and it connects the lower waterways that lead to the town of Lockport and beyond. Near the old neighborhood where I used to live, the river divides the district, from Chinatown, do
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"I like to see your juicy cheeks wiggle."
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In the morning I listen through an ear-trumpet
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I imagine diving into a vat of dried fruit, enjoying the unmistakable sweetness in each shriveled morsel, until I find myself biting into an undetected metal shard.
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Im in bed.
Bed.
I look at the word bed written on the screen.
Bed.
It looks like bad but not quite.
Bed-Bad.
Bad-Bed.
I have a bad bed. Lets say my bed is bad.
It is a bed to the extent that it is bad. It is not good, it is bad. It is a bad bed.
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“Are you afraid?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I’m thrilled.”
“Thrilled?”
“Yes, I’m thrilled that something is happening to me. It’s been such a long time since anything has happened. I was getting really bored, but this is great.
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Spackle. Spackle is always the answer.
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Go ahead, show the soul its own beauty. But also tell me again about my own, so I may know I lived, and loved you. The one who shows the soul its own touching beauty gets to keep her. Who shows her the golden nightly song that's given us life, is like t
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All that have changed in me,
I give to you now.
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(From Postcards fom a Railway Station (final poem)) No lights shine out tonight high hung in heaven: And the constellations like a dead man fall. No sight of polar eyes, whose sons are seven, And I stand unthinking and beyond it all I own it all a…
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Is that who we are as a nation, or was that day an aberration?
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Had this been a film, I’d have seen you at once. Extreme close-up: my finger on the green button that opens the door to the park. Long shot: my leaving my bike at the entrance. Slow shot: my walking down the narrow stone path.
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