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"...and time came hurtling behind him, gripped his shoulder/ jumped clean over him like a buck goat/ the world aged but he did not/ he spent his afternoons in an old car with fake leather seats/ drank cold beer under the olive trees/ or lay in a hammock/
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150644
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Feelin’, feelin’ good, down-fallin’ down/rain, rain, rain came today,/wet alfresco alchemy
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158132
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Remembering Ginsberg
who howled through just about everybody's idea of the real weirdo poet
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two roses her eyes
aqua-blue
no, blue-green
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We’re not like a lot of your fly-by-night disease-based charities. Every pence we raise goes directly to St. Bartholomew’s, where 90% of it ends up in the pockets of doctors so they can buy expensive horses.
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184233
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Do you know first hiss of batter hitting groundnut oil in a shallow pan, I ask, on a morning after a long, dream-ridden sleep?
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Excelsior: A Poem in Nine Parts Preface: Musings on a Lighthouse by an Eastern Isle (Suggested by a painting by Mario Larrinaga) It is bright tonight; this plain, displaced from place In Time's broad flight, yields…
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171030
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“He looks funny again,” the twins would say. “Cow looks funny, Mummy.”
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driving and standing in front of the same car
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On a certain level, everyone was relieved when it finally did happen. They had been waiting a long time for it. Finally, they could relax. There was no reason for anxiety anymore.
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After ten days in Jeddah, I start to miss the rain back home in Tennessee....
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Life's a beach? A bitch? Same thing.
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101230
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A salesman, a born salesman like my brother, is always and only involved in the Moment, and it is the sale itself that is at the heart of the moment, and my brother Harris was really at the top of his form as a salesman. It can probably best be said, th
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We fall through two feet of clouds and dragons before we land softly on our feet in clover and crab grass.
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There are many times in my life when I look back and wonder how things would have been different if that one single day, one single moment, had never occurred. If I hadn’t gone there, if I hadn’t seen Tony, if I hadn’t sent him instead of going myse
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The train seemed unusually empty this morning. Not that I minded, the night before the train had picked up three travelers which brought the car’s capacity to about half. Two men and a woman. Luckily, I wasn’t burdened with any as a seating companion. Mak
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98931
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It happened almost overnight. There were long lines of cars at every filling station. There was anger, open hostility. Cars were backing into one another in line, trying to jockey for position. I don't think anyone could believe this was really happening
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In Nebraska, I looked up from the flatness, to her face, then down to the page and saw this: Real people have joy.
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So this was how it started. The next day Kia returned to sit with him a bit and the next day and the day after that until the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months. Eventually she found out his name was Saul, that he had no 'proper' job, was o
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I can hear my heart
in this empty field;
I feel it burn
against the wall of my chest.
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Contemporary cosmography tells us that both our extravagant valorizations of freedom and our dim regard for some conceptions and exercises of freedom are themselves . . . influenced by sheer physical velocity . . . .
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with so many thick curtains hung out to shroud/ so many unlit eyes, Night you’d think could spare/ a small few for our diversion . . .
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“Just how many different bipeds try to hide their nakedness?” “Only one. And that'd be us, idiot.”, Twinkle responded. “Then, why don't we mind showing certain parts of our bodies?”, she then asked. Twinkle could see it was going to be…
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You, who reaches in, touches me in that moment of decision, and knows I’ll be everything you’ve looked forward to tonight.
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Here comes the bus. It’s going to Tuscany and is full of pronouns: he, she, me, you, it, them, us, we, and you again.
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The BBC's “Sherlock” is among the most popular shows on TV, and there has been much speculation among die-hard fans like myself about what the upcoming fourth season will hold. Having consulted my own crystal ball, here's what I see happening: Irene…
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Satan is a wide-eyed Pollyanna mime who communicates with a ventriloquist dummy that corrects my grammar, speaks in internet acronyms, tells me that I’d be a lot prettier if I just smiled more and lost fifteen pounds, and nags me about how all my problems
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[VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.]
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Thirty-seven stitches to sew your ear on, five more to close the skin above your eyebrow...
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