1843 10 9
|
poets can kill, or at least they once could:/
perhaps poems tamed us, if they are any good.
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1842148
|
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184262
|
She was in love with a boy whose eyes were so brown that she sat stopped in the restaurant at the anniversary dinner with the spoon in her slow chocolate fondant. Out of the corner of her eye, around the back of her head, under the table knees knocking
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1842106
|
I turn up the music and slip into drone, rock it like a tunnel in canary. When that does not erase his face, I cup my breast with one hand and let my hair fall.
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184221
|
She persisted. “How long have we been here?”
A note of anger crept into his voice. “How long? How long? Why …, why ….” He swallowed hard, realized he had forgotten.
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184265
|
He checks the bedrooms first,
then the hallway,
followed by the living room
and the bathrooms.
When he can't find you he takes to calling out,
daddy,
I'm sure the neighbors hear.
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18421411
|
|
184262
|
They stood at the intersection waiting for the light to change so they could cross the highway.
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184121
|
He’d been wishing for months that he’d bought a retro clothing store. He would have called it HARRY’S HOARY HOSERRY. He would have met a better class of women.
|
184100
|
—with spinster goddesses in the middle of things / circling looms.
|
1841118
|
“Sometimes when I feel the urge to create, I don’t know whether to grab my paints, my camera, my guitar or my pen.”
“You could have sex,” her friend, sitting in the desk next to hers, joked.
|
18411210
|
Poor kid. She didn't mean to leave my business card on her kitchen counter next to the telephone. It was a mistake.
|
184111
|
Once, when I had not talked to you in a long time, I woke with your name in my mouth.
|
184145
|
PORNOGRAPHY First He went across the floor to where she sat. One sleeve of her shirt dropped to show her shoulder, salted and brown. One hundred fish filled the wave. Now, he said. Now is now. Second The car wouldn't…
|
184110
|
They gave Lee a bunch of morphine in the ambulance and he came to vaguely, murmuring shit about God and mermaids.
|
184152
|
The courtroom smelled a lot like mold and it was hot as you could imagine. I sweated through my shirt and wondered if he wasn’t dying under his robe. He looked down at me from his bench and I just knew he was going to call me a commie and sentence me to l
|
1841208
|
Phoebe-Lou Adams wrote this of them
|
18402016
|
The custard of eternity is scooped into
the quantum cone of knowledge and drips
out the bottom one lifetime at a time.
|
184091
|
I've come to the Playboy Mansion on a mission of mercy. Hugh Hefner, my good buddy, has just lost two girlfriends in a single day!
|
18401412
|
He says, You think too much and he grins a grin that has all of the attic keys on a wrought iron ring, on a chain.
|
184065
|
This is Jorge. He was a good little monkey. And always curious.Like the time he and his friend, the man in the amarillo sombrero, had to fly to Japan. *Jorge sat by the window. Watched the ground get further away. Until they were above the clouds. He looked out…
|
184085
|
"There is something in the air. It makes people sick, makes them want to die. They
cannot inhale too deeply for fear that it will turn them mad."
|
1840128
|
"Everything except food and sex."
|
184097
|
They say
it was like an elephant
married to a dove.
Imagine, me,
a dove!
Ridículo!
|
183921
|
A plague of dykes mattered not. This spider-girl had driven the world of thought from Borden’s mind.
|
18391511
|
Here they come, those witnesses.
|
183933
|
To what better worlds remain.
|
18391512
|
Leonard didn't know that cute girl well, hardly at all, but he really wanted to. She was his first real crush in Junior High. He got his chance and talked to her some one day while they were walking down the hall between classes. She actually spoke to him first. The bell…
|
183900
|
One day me an' Elvis was down at the riverbank with Huckleberry, chasin' darters an' watchin' barges go by. It was a lazy day bein' a Sunday an' all. We had jest got back from Church an' Mami told me to change my clothes so's that I didn't get my Sunday
|
18391514
|
it was your hands—caked
with years-old clay & quaking
from too much solitude
|
