174 6 5
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I write my new poem in the gardenBut not like Mary OliverMore like meDirt under my fingernailsReal dirtI can feel the grit of it Something that shouldn't be thereBut is.
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13543
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count vb (late 14c) “to enumerate, assign numerals to successively and in order; repeat the numerals in order”; also “to reckon among, include,” from Old French conter “to count, add up,” also “tell a…
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19634
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My heart raced. I couldn't swallow. Heat rose under my skin, sharp and disorienting. I wanted to disappear—to fold inward, to dissolve—but instead of leaving, I walked toward him.
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18132
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That there are a downstairs, and high voices.
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9032
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The tinny beer can fell from my desk
and exploded over my head
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8931
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Albert's alarm was on the verge of being dispelled by the cognac when another occurrence rattled him. In one of his vest pockets he located a short note addressed to him by Schrödinger. “—but no, this cannot be!”
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6411
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Should I talk freely, or do you preferdecorum? To kill a butterfly isnot honorable. Everything should stopthere, but it won't. It never does. I hope you're happy now doesn't mean I don't give a damn what happens to you. I talk freely because that's what…
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