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He switched off the light. His wife was breathing softly. At her bedside he told her of her friends the roses, of the pretty carnation brooch he had pinned on her silk scarf, of her coquettish hat which fitted her so well. Small, simple and bright memories the heavy night…
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was yesterday’s dawn breaking in the high sky/ meant for us?
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fetal position can make a man seem small. harmless. like the child your womb won't carry...
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The neighbor kids start, we join in–
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Compartments trickle together/
in light diffuse and unreliable./
Fortify yourself against the day.
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I am sitting on our porch in the middle of the night. I can't sleep. The stars look like runway lights. Out of boredom, I reach out my hand to connect the distant dots. The tip of my finger hits…
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No fuckin' way, Maude. Excuse me, but you know I can't stand that bag of wind. No way.
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The people with the lucky faces Are always sneaking out more credit For everything than they deserve. Maybe They are right, maybe it's our fault For buying into the myths of the Land of mirrors. The people with the Lucky faces haven't…
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Stories Around People An Event Facebook lived in midtown, for there the people and windows shone like water. Though it would board the bus—1 day—and ride to the sea, where people said words like sea and where the city shone in the waves…
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The moon poured more/
light into the sky/
yet we kept on talking
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We left Louisville two weeks after daddy died...
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Frankly, I would rather die than have my diary published. Now that everyone in the whole world knows Anne’s deepest secrets, I’m sure she would want to kill herself anyway.
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Essences of bull and bison,//
stag and horse, illuminate/
the stony underground.
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When exactly does cheese go bad? it simply does not, I say.
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1. The clouds and the shadows of the clouds. The early light, like the night undressing herself revealing pink beneath, underneath the glory and the intimacy like early love made of arms only arms fingers and…
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Wanna,wanna, whoop de loop. Hold my baby, kiss my mom, dance the way I used to do. Desktops, blacktops, cut and paste, speed down hills, learn the rules, Sister Saint Marion, married to Christ. Sixteen, life-green, pink tights, Swan Lake, an…
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Extrapolate, interpolate/
to add imaginary flesh//
to fragmentary bones.
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Frankie married me during my theory stage. I hadn’t known her long.
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Momma called them Vaughens, "a outfit," and said, "they shoulda throwed the book at that Darla Jean."
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They'd taken so much: ivory, rubber, copper, gold. Wealth for the grabbing. No remorse.
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...ghosts still resentful, ghosts far from home...
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She’d once read the Time-Life Encyclopedia on The Universe and became obsessed with the woman from Alabama who was singled out, by a rock from a far place, in her sleep.
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Fax me back to South Street listening to the dumpster / trumpeter, standing like licorice in the rain, / as the fetid officers assemble for the raid
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That’s a long time/
to live with the certainty/
of your death
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Breasts don't make you a woman, but no one told me that.
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“If they look that good in shorts.” I warned him once, in a candid, humorous moment, “Then they’re probably too young for you to look at.”
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What purpose other than misery/
can cancer serve? And Parkinson's,/
AIDS, and STDs?
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