1776 10 10
|
I had some words, but the truth is they don't mean a thing because whatever it is I was trying to say to you always crumbles to the ground in front of you. I had some words, but the bullying wind was stronger than me and ripped them…
|
17751617
|
If I wanted cautious I wouldn't be in her bed. She would only sleep with her husband. Adultery is not for pussies. So I dive back into the conversation which has made my dick limp and ask where I'm wrong in our post-coital chatter and she says it doesn't
|
177510
|
Conjoined - her hardened nipple brushing, softly, against him, his chest hair caressing her skin like a thousand hungry lovers’ fingers – the perfect moment lasted eternity.
|
177574
|
"Merry Christmas, Willie."
|
177511
|
I am in the hallway, but I don’t sense it. That is to say: I don’t feel my body. I am like a phantom, a limbless entity floating, flailing.
|
177535
|
I was sitting on the steps in the entryway to our apartment building taking off my running shoes when I spotted a paperclip on the floor. I assumed it had fallen from the mail that my wife had just taken from our mailbox. Once my shoes were removed, I went down to pick…
|
177521
|
Oh no, here is that Whitman man
I’ve heard he is a bounder.
Don’t look his way or catch his eye-
Just get another round, dear.
|
17751312
|
the world slips under the waves
|
17752112
|
"the rum tasted of hibiscus blossoms"
|
17751010
|
Yellow Pages season is on us now, and Jimmy's drivin' a contract route. He'll head out to the San Joaquin where they print, and load ‘em in the back of his Tundra with the high side walls until the whole damned rig sags low,
|
17752313
|
I am abandoned to the mundane/
calculations of a small mind/
trapped by small considerations
|
177534
|
What happened then was not entirely innocent or spontaneous. I had been impressed by a scene in Some Came Running by James Jones, where the teenage writer sneaks his girlfriend home and makes love to her on his childhood's bed.
|
1775119
|
He asked me to bury him in Vegas.
Instead, I had him cremated in Trenton.
|
1775106
|
He is drilling the door of a safe to access the keys he locked inside.
|
1774164
|
He ran his forefinger round the rim of the lid then sucked at his fingertip. The texture's like chalk, he thought, it tastes of earth. He hadn't anticipated this — but dipped his finger in again and swallowed. It was like scraping his tongue against a blackboard on…
|
177455
|
While the other kids blew bubbles, Maddy clung to my neck. She didn't cry or scream, and she held on loosely, not with the death grip some kids have. For five Wednesday afternoons, Maddy wrapped her pudgy arms over my shoulders and rested her bottom on m
|
177485
|
And because the film is French, the camera pauses / long moments at the curve of her neck, it watches/ her finger vermilion tulips in a vase. Her new lover,/ a wisp of a man, looks good in leather./ The camera pans quickly across beige suede,/ rests long
|
177454
|
Never touch David Letterman's neck!
|
177400
|
Poppy de Witte was content to spend her summers in Cape Cod, where her family owned a small beach house considerably less stifling than their spacious apartment on Park Avenue.
|
177450
|
So back to Berkeley we went, and started our own commune in a huge rented house on Derby Street where we could tear the fences down in all the neighborhood backyards. We created what we called “The Meadow.”
|
17742217
|
While you can,/
find the beautiful
|
177331
|
We learned to dance beneath a gazebo / in Spring Lake Park / We were fourteen
|
17731715
|
With such a world/
one must invent a heaven
|
1773139
|
|
1773147
|
where is the magic at?
the spit
the dirt
or the words?
|
17731512
|
(I'd appreciate some feedback on this very weird story.) A Frosted Mini Wheat walks in to a bar...
|
1773139
|
Like many little towns, ours has an archive. It is a catalog of everything that happens.
|
177312
|
I am tired of playing the old game: Saying something old in a new way. So let me do the opposite:
|
177284
|
SPOT ON OUR LUNG We sense A stillborn dawn. A furtive, lurking gray, A sleight of dusk, eclipse, that follows Us. TITANIC'S LANTERNS Upon My rain-glazed panes Wet lights from neighbors glow Like lantern beams from shipwrecks…
|
177288
|
I can confirm nothing/
but impressions of the world//
that appear beyond my/
body’s reach.
|
