1758 18 17
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One day my wife got so mad at me she raked her fingernails down my face.
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1353 18 14
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The phone rings. The oven beeps./
The locomotive whistles and howls.
|
2780 18 9
|
I thought of driving over there across town, steering with buttered hands.
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15603 18 11
|
It is no easy thing getting noticed on Las Ramblas.
|
1603 18 8
|
She’s there, in a tin, loosely wound
beneath sepia tissue paper, a braid
to worry in your fingers.
|
1896 18 17
|
"It's time to move the chair..."
|
2204 18 7
|
This is the only time she feels she can be herself.
|
2129 18 11
|
Last Christmas Eve, my Nana shot my grandfather in the foot because he wouldn't stop boning the woman up the street. So on Christmas Eve, after Nana drank a bunch of those baby-sized Miller Hi-life beers, she went upstairs, got her pistol, and said, “I'm gonna…
|
1360 18 10
|
The one thing I believe in is collapse./
Abandoned buildings collapse. Civilizations//
collapse. Financial bubbles collapse./
Stars and galaxies collapse. Falling//
is something that comes quite naturally/
to puffed up things.
|
1305 18 16
|
Gossip Betty Martini divorces husbands when they least expect it. On a seeming whim, she pays a visit to dear Arnold, who keeps her papers handy in his top desk drawer. She initials here and there, signs with a…
|
1126 18 10
|
But if He makes you happy, stands/
as bulwark against the vast, indifferent/
and deadly universe, then cling to Him
|
1645 18 13
|
The young man is back again, solo,
|
2867 18 11
|
My poetry is bare, showing its pink and purplish imperfections and its injuries. I buy it a dress to hide its bruises, to ornate it a little, to make it smile. On its rather ugly and mishaped body, the dress looks comical, ridiculous, clumsy, like a bird with a broken wing.…
|
1272 18 9
|
The Street singer gathers up his coins
and counts to a hundred before
The last string stops vibrating
|
1289 18 11
|
|
1741 18 16
|
captured by his lens and plates/
before humidity and hydrocarbons/
smudge the crisp clean lines
|
359 18 16
|
|
1613 18 9
|
feathered waves of tangerine peach
|
1566 18 14
|
There are things we must not say.
|
1385 18 17
|
They meant no harm when they flooded farms in its swirls and eddies
|
2338 18 11
|
The hairs on my arm lift with the breeze; a haunting breath from the open window carrying night-scented stock from the black-shrouded garden.
|
106 18 9
|
Nobody looks for Gina between the hours of four and five. Her father is on swing shift for the rest of the summer; his two o'clock- dinner plates are soaking in a sinkful of scummy water. Her mother is fanning herself in the shade of the wisteria, most of her…
|
1494 18 14
|
The bones are chilled now, past/
invigorations of the coming spring//
and its entanglements
|
1592 18 14
|
Also in development,/
the anatomically perfect robot/
pool boy and naughty maid,
|
907 18 0
|
I don’t read.
I don’t do the dishes.
What am I?
If I were more domesticated, I’d poop in the street.
I’d lift my leg and pee on the bushes.
I would chase after every ass in the hood
and sniff them too.
I wouldn’t fetch much.
What am I? Wha
|
1526 18 9
|
|
4067 18 4
|
I’m not sure if it’s Punkin or her pink fuzzy bunny slippers that I love.
|
1997 18 3
|
Male genitals were usually portrayed diminutively in classical art. After forty minutes in a drafty room without cloths on, I was beginning to understand why.
|
1306 18 9
|
I want to tell you how the odor of the flowers/felt her funeral day
|
1768 18 15
|
I murdered my inner child/
at 7 and neither denied/
nor confessed the act until now.
|