1643 4 1
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Butchie was the one who heard about the bonfire happening over on Harrison Avenue.
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1642137
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Here’s how you do it. First you get a ladder, a long one.
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1642106
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In the small hours, when the crackling of the embers had stopped and the room had gone cold, the boiler kicked in and the pipes began to clang. He was half-roused out of his sleep, and then slipped under again to dream of Marley's fettered ghost.
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164274
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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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1642127
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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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164275
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What's the weirdest thing you've ever used as a bookmark? I work in a library. I've seen that, and more.
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164275
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I bleed my heart into my computer, peruse The fact they have proclaimed my root unfit for use But it is I! This manhood, this tower Extending up toward the heavens like a miraculous flower, Purple headed warrior of generation, See it standing…
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164264
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And as you try to read, he appears.
No, not in front of you, but somewhere
just behind your eyes. You hear the sound
at the end of an argument, just before
the kiss; you see a shirt fall to the ground
in late summer; you watch him read
as his mouth
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164291
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it’s women i’ve loved/
or men i owe money
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164292
|
It's the outrage of the red monkey at her feet,
And the nude thirteen-year-old woman sitting upright
In the blue velvet chair, and the hints of blue at her navel,
And at her lips and belly and crotch, that so upset Paris.
Gauguin had his nerve
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164200
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The desk calendar was brilliant, unused. The problems with it didn't begin until March.
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164262
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If we thought that love was gone
that out of sweetness none remained
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164176
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He hasn't had a wedding ring in years. When George's knuckles began to swell — a little arthritis — his ring dug into his finger so bad his wife Loren took him to the ER and had it cut off. The ring, not the finger. He never knew there was a tool to cut rings,…
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164144
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A man jumped off the High Level Bridge this morning.
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164132
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He arrives at the appointed hour, driving up the dusty road in his '68 Ford truck. On the side is stenciled “Sampson's Farrier Service.” He parks in front of the barn. Patience watches from the front porch, where she has just set down a…
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1641101
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Loving you, I always knew, was a job I’d only get via a dead woman’s shoes. There you were, the recipient of pot roasts, fresh bread, at a loss amongst neighbourhood widows and divorcees. A tide of them rolled over you in calico blouses, cut off jeans
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164111
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He laughed – pictures traveled across his mind of bodies and mouths and the sex and the liquor, he could taste the flesh and the alcohol right then, strong, immediate.
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164100
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Under the dirty orange glow of sodium streetlights, the glistening pavement looks slick, but it’s only just wet. The mid-November temperature is cool—quite mild, actually, for this late time of year—still hovering in the upper 30s—so far posing only the
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1641108
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Nothing good comes from being lowered into a well to take a photograph, boy
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1641189
|
They left me on a gurney for hours...
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164142
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To Charles Bukowski "I haven't shat or pissed in seven years," she tells him, negotiating each word around the Marlboro. Because he doesn't know what else to say, Isaiah asks, "Haven't you seen a …
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164111
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Her thumbs tucked beneath the waistline of her pants, slightly pulling them down to expose the eternity between belly button and bliss. I looked up at her as I slid my tongue along the rail of her hip, sucking at its point.
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164154
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Never touch David Letterman's neck!
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164143
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Viewed correctly, nature is an inexhaustible storehouse of clichés. A successful landscape is their pleasing rearrangement.
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16411912
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Start now. Make lists. Call long-lost friends. Say what needs saying. Raise hell.
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164182
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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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164100
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Would a chickenshit leave her like I did yesterday?
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164185
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16411514
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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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1641115
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He looked straight at her, not to challenge her, but to better gauge what it was she would throw at him. Her eyes always darted to the thing right before her red, swollen fingers snatched at it, like a thing possessed.
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