1983 9 8
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We know a poem isn't going to stop you From invading our town. It won't get you to Listen to our birds any more than to our Sunsets. That's not why we do it. We know A poem isn't going to break the blade of Your knife like an…
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198232
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Miraculous tarantulas, and octopii, have many limbs akimbo, Two have you: and they are better than be kept in zoo. Thine eyne are like the marbles that my youth had held in limbo, ‘Cept even better yet, for they are fairly lashed and greeny-blue. Your…
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198232
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So I'm digging, clawing the black earth, disappearing in its ore and shadow.
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19813315
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To envy faith, to envy love --//
is there a fate more hateful? Choices/
scatter like stars. Too many.
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1981126
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1981115
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After court, the three of us skipped third period, walked down to the river and huddled under the 6th Street Bridge.
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198122
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She hated the noiseless dying sound they made as he stuck the hook through their eyes. She always wanted for them to scream, but they never did. They didn’t even blink.
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198051
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One of her favorites was of an old axe asleep on a desert floor. She told people the axe had the western lips of September. That it held the song of the ocean and the dreams of a scarecrow. Some thought she was mad to talk in such a way. Others believed h
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198055
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He has one good eye and is missing the other. The socket of his missing eye squints with a disturbing and unfathomable insight.
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1980107
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Things get lost in Big John, too. I see the other guys throw jokes about his size at his body that wedge their way into his armpits or into the wrinkles of his laugh lines and disappear. I’m not sure if it all disappears to remind us how small we are,
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198021
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At 1 a.m. Route 205 is empty. Del drives. Carla sits in the darkness with the directions to the Nassau County Jail on her lap...
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1980104
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What happens to a town when all of its songbirds go on strike?
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198032
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your olive-pitting thumbs
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1979105
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Are we like a poem, a short hand of words curtained together, evoking a mood, but in the end, impenetrable? We follow the clues to our lover's heart and what we find isn't him at all but ourselves. We fill every part of his life, every part of his past and even become…
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1979129
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“Lightning has more longevity than I,”
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19793018
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I dreamed that coffee grounds had spilled on my Buffet. There was another clarinet, a silver one, that belonged to a man not in the room, that was clean of debris.
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1979104
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They live a simple life..two solitudes by lamplight.
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19791412
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The hour reflected those pleasant moments when evening hunger can be satiated by anticipation alone, before the pangs become demanding.
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197910
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Elin and I had religious differences about the garage. To her the garage required regular sweeping and organization--it was an extension of our house. Elin believed dust and mold to be manifestations of inner sin. I insisted that they were agents of evolu
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197874
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Every Friday night she gets liberated at The Haymarket Square doing a bunny hop or a do si do with ex-members of The Saint Augustine Women's Choir. She remembers how as kids, shy or awkward in dresses, their voices formed the harmony, the flight of something V-shaped…
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1978129
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in which creative destruction holds the heads of entire populations beneath the surface of the water in bathtubs until the bubbles stop
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197894
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Three hours isn't that long.
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197800
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At the edge of the forest, his sister began to complain about how everybody—their mother and father and all of her friends included—hated her. It was exasperating, the light she sometimes put herself in. The fact of the matter was that she received more
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197874
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Juniper Mélange was a cat person, not a dog person. Truly detested when she perceived falseness in another person. She wore glasses and drank tea. Had dark straight hair and light skin. She dressed conservatively and would watch the sky most days. She wou
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197842
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Ghostriders in the syand rainbows in my mindor was itrainbow in the skyghostriders in my mind?I can't remember ...And apparently this body is not 200 characters long, so I add some text so this pearl too can be read (ahum) My body is only 170 characters long, snif,…
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197800
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“What the hell kind of name is Angel? Who were you with before, some little girl?”
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197811
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I spent the whole day at Oliveira's, writing furiously in my notebooks. The words came pouring out. Just before seven, Darrell picked me up. I grew anxious driving down to Parker's studio because it was in a bad area on the border between Oakland
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19781613
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197741
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She comes in with her white bag with its floral patterns scattered, almost accidentally, all around it
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197722
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Her face had that strange preserved quality Maybelle saw in many aging Boomer women — like an old toy never removed from its packaging.
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