1838 6 6
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The man went into his backpack and pulled out his book of crossword puzzles. The deluxe edition with fifty percent more puzzles for free. It had been an impulse buy from the bookstore, cost him four…
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18381612
|
Indeed, it was quite likely that no one in town had ever played either of these games. The townsfolk were not big fans of word games, though they did enjoy Whist and Canasta.
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183897
|
The drip of rank meat, his muzzle, his back-barbed tongue: red.
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183866
|
A son packs his bag - bottled water, extra masks, and jerky. Mom paces behind him. “Don't go.”
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1838136
|
4. Hers blocking driveway, his diagonal in grass
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18381514
|
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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1838106
|
He is drilling the door of a safe to access the keys he locked inside.
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18382111
|
Guys on safari wearing safari jackets shoot things all day, things with funny names …
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183775
|
I was Orson Welles skulking in the shadows and you Alida Valli;
our time measured like footsteps advancing on Gethsemane.
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183732
|
Matthias Fenstermacher loved onions, but hated slicing them, and so he labored to produce a tearless variety. His first attempt was indeed tearless--instead of weeping, the slicer was overcome by fits of uncontrollable giggles. The potential hazard was
|
183721
|
"Look, Ted, I'm on a timer. It's really hell here, you can't imagine. And I have a chance to get paroled early, if you do me a solid."
|
183784
|
I awake one morning to find that still,
the leaves continue to fall.
|
183752
|
|
183721
|
I look at that wall, it has piss-stain yellow paint and water scars from several years of leaky pipes. I say I wouldn’t mind that, if he took out some of that wall.
|
183700
|
an ominous figure of fear and grace a ball moves back and forth
|
18371110
|
Someone will labor to keep it alive/
although the body will want but/
to return to random particles
|
183682
|
The Numbers will never romp up the stairs from the laundry room to slip warm socks on your feet on a winter’s night.
|
183674
|
"Merry Christmas, Willie."
|
1836106
|
|
183633
|
Waking in the middle of the night, tangled in the hotel sheets, I wanted to hear the story again: their pilot friend, the war, his specialty. "It's just a screw, son," Dad said, "nothing exotic."
|
1836109
|
It was all I was convinced / in designing the encounter.
|
183666
|
There is a push-up on the ceiling. I don't know how to get it down. I've tried hitting it with a broom. That just made it blow steam. I asked my wife, did you do push-ups on the ceiling? She did. Why? It's easier up there. The cat doesn't bother me. Well, you left…
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183663
|
You took up residence on the dark side of things, a bolthole in a wind-flayed right angle of a tower block where pigeons and suicides tumbled blackly on the air currents. You set about drifting off from who you were on a tide of cheap whisky and bad poetry, graduating…
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1836148
|
When Kat returned home from The East Street Wars, she learned that her epileptic lover, White Dog, died from madness
|
18361814
|
Also in development,/
the anatomically perfect robot/
pool boy and naughty maid,
|
183697
|
I stand at the edge of the water naked as a newborn. Tiny ripples lick my toes.
|
183654
|
|
183553
|
Hunger only makes people hungry, but bad hair can ruin your whole day.
|
183553
|
Having sex with her there made me feel like a child molester, I said. She said it made her excited.
|
1835108
|
Half-pint Ball canning jars, each labeled in earnest capital letters, took up a whole wall of Teeny’s bedroom. Inside each jar was air she had collected from some place important to her life.
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