1681 4 1
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Butchie was the one who heard about the bonfire happening over on Harrison Avenue.
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1680179
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He deplaned Air France flight 9 from JFK to Charles de Gaulle airport at quarter past noon.
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1680218
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Wind pummeled me awake, smelling of pine and some quality of newness I could not identify...
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16801512
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She wears three or four tattered sweaters on cool days. She pushes a basket borrowed from a grocery store. There is a plastic lawn bag in the basket with God knows what inside.
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1680139
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1680148
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When Kat returned home from The East Street Wars, she learned that her epileptic lover, White Dog, died from madness
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168021
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I kept a journal
for so many years
I've forgotten
everything I wrote.
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168053
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I opened my switchblade mouth and sliced
through the scab of silence.
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167941
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Dad must have walked around with me 20 times, the store closed around us and finally he said I could have one. They were all in different poses and sizes, with black spots. Except one. One had silver spots.
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167943
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1679119
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Your precious feet were there once, pressed against the familiar floorboards, where your poems suddenly appeared to you, flashing like lightning. I wonder which window they came in? Here's a thought: you were like that window. You caught…
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167911
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Perhaps a blue person is more alive underneath than a red. Red is eye-catching and flashy, but blue is substantial, secretive. Of course, blood is red, and there’s nothing more substantial than blood, but we’re on blue at the moment, and the thought
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1679145
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She's the one you remember when there's talk of the blow.
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167955
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Alessandro was no ordinary demon (what demon is?), insofar as he had Constable Pulce's number. In demonly fashion he had Pulce's number in a way Pulce himself did not.
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16782517
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167822
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mr cummings sounded too formal for a man who didn’t use capital letters. As she climbed the four flights of stairs to the flat, she sang to herself, “I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart).”
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167820
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a store called ROCKING FROCKS. In its window was a black tee shirt that said in big white letters, I'M NOT A SLUT, I'M WITH THE BAND.
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167874
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Things aren't going to get better are they? Would you like a sugar cube? No. Are you sure? I put acid on it. Oh, well yes, I guess then. Cool. Things might get better for a little bit then. Or horribly worse. Ha. Awesome. They taste like an orgasm…
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1678127
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The calls come in a few times a week. When the unknown someone calls Safety Now, Radon Testing and Elimination Headquarters, Mrs. R. wonders who it is that just sits silently on the other end of the line. She wants to say, "Look, if you're a bill colle
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16781310
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Why is there a heavy weight and a chain and a padlock in her woodstove? Because, she says to herself, slightly hysterically, because this is yet another thing that you must carry. Why? Because life is full of chains and padlocks and heavy weights. Hea
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167877
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How much do book editors earn? Peacock Love. (aww…)
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167853
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Another Saturday in April. Another set of scars.
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1678103
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Melinda said forget the kegger last night, what we’re about to do will help you figure out whether you want to apply here.
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1678119
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He asked me to bury him in Vegas.
Instead, I had him cremated in Trenton.
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167882
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It was so hot we walked out on our husbands. There were reasons, we supposed. They left the refrigerator doors open all day, grabbing beers when they passed by, tossing the sticky caps upon counters. They drove their Metropolitans to buy food, leaving th
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16781514
|
I wrote this during a poetry workshop at the Atlantic Center for the Arts with Carolyn Forché. January, 2015. So much more has happened since that stunning week.
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16782816
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Lately he's been wanting to write about love...
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167873
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Having read the poetry of Dennison
I hereby give up writing.
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167755
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These are the small miracles we witness from my barrio stoop.
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167720
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I love reading about myself. There's nothing more gratifying than seeing my name in the paper, knowing so many people are interested in who I am and what I do.
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