1743 11 9
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oh, sure i’m still running around like a heads-up/off/prophet/profit/fit trying to cut off my very own de/(con)instruction and all other sordid a•void•able & available /a-Babel-Trumpish towers of post & toastmodern doom/daze/haze
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I said hey man, how you doin’? He looked up and nodded but his shades flashed and I couldn’t see his eyes.
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8) An exercise online calls for the first sentence on page 45 of the book nearest you as a suggested description of your love life. The book 9) nearest me still is _The Quarterly_, 1, spring 1987, that I have on my desk in preparing to write an essay.
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On my honeymoon, we went upstate to the Catskill Mountains.
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He got tired of the pool party, the chit-chat, the suburban posturing, and he decided to swim home.
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An anorexic middle-aged woman walked up and watched me..
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untilled, weedy, left to rest
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nothing suffices as harbor / but a permit to claw at every yawing chasm
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Winter melts to ashes and now we walk where hillocks dip like pillows, where a warm pocket of air keeps the scent of spring beauties for itself. Sensitive vetch so easily shocked folds under a feather yet the earth trembles where trout lilies shove. Buds stall on lilacs…
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aquatic, free-swimming or earth-bound
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Ok, so I know this guy, he's a friend of mine. A good friend, even though I think he's left too big a tip on the bar more than once. His name is Frank.
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If you find a nickel-plated Colt .38 lying on top of a worn copy of King Lear, you’ll know who you’re dealing with.
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This is the place I could find my breath. I didn'tSay I understood it. I only wanted to hold someone andMeant to. I don't care about the rules for caring.This place where I could speak was incredibly far from Where I'd once met you. The place where I could…
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I carried him home, all blood and brains, and set him in the ground. Is that love, George?
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Neglected long enough, uncalled for/
by the shrinking language of the day,//
my words abandon me.
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One night while in rehab I had a dream that I worked as a violin maker in Salzburg.
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In his head he thinks oh whatever when I wake this time I shall have a very fine discussion with Someone special, oh but finding meaning in anything nowadays that's Just too much rich flattery, isn't it, filthy mirror? Inside His head's…
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He said stuff like
‘Crikey that's a knife',” she said, “it was bad, really
really bad.”
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In the darkness, as I awaken, an orange glowing 3:45 greets me . . .
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I'm trying to read a Poetry in Motion poem on there wall of a crowded electric train
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Beside her door there was a black squirrel in the dogwood she saw scratched his armpit.
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when the surface of a photograph gets like this that it has gone blind
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“Just how many different animals try to hide their nakedness?” “Only one. And that'd be us, idiot.”, Twinkle responded. “Then, why don't we mind sometimes showing our bodies?”, she then asked. Twinkle could see it was going to be another…
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Even in the fading light, it looked big enough to disembowel a man.
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W here do you think you're going
what'll you think you'll do
running down this highway
that you never even knew
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He has stubby, rough little fingers. Good.
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Hippy health food. It all began with Hannah’s homemade granola.
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elton wrings the melody from the words into the silent but pulsing air
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