1837 5 5
|
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.
|
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.
|
183621
|
Mrs. Noah eyed the thickening clouds from the front stoop. Noah was still out in the yard kicking up sand in disgust, arguing with himself the whole time. Piles of cedar timber lay strewn all about. Maybe if they’d lived even three days’ journey clos
|
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."
|
18362214
|
I thought each day died inside the clock.
|
183697
|
The drip of rank meat, his muzzle, his back-barbed tongue: red.
|
183696
|
People suck. They suck you down, and if you're not careful, they'll ruin you.
|
1836136
|
4. Hers blocking driveway, his diagonal in grass
|
18361514
|
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.
|
18362111
|
Guys on safari wearing safari jackets shoot things all day, things with funny names …
|
1835106
|
|
183575
|
I was Orson Welles skulking in the shadows and you Alida Valli;
our time measured like footsteps advancing on Gethsemane.
|
183532
|
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
|
183587
|
We want our lives even-cut, …
|
183597
|
I stand at the edge of the water naked as a newborn. Tiny ripples lick my toes.
|
183522
|
|
183466
|
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…
|
183494
|
A jollier zombie you shall never find. You must trust me on this!
|
183463
|
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…
|
1834148
|
When Kat returned home from The East Street Wars, she learned that her epileptic lover, White Dog, died from madness
|
183421
|
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.
|
18341814
|
Also in development,/
the anatomically perfect robot/
pool boy and naughty maid,
|
1834139
|
Like many little towns, ours has an archive. It is a catalog of everything that happens.
|
18341110
|
Some of them are notorious tweakers. Nobody epitomizes the cowboy-outlaw biker more than the ironworkers, who are wired on Black Beauties they sell on breaks.
|
1834106
|
He is drilling the door of a safe to access the keys he locked inside.
|
183400
|
an ominous figure of fear and grace a ball moves back and forth
|
18341110
|
Someone will labor to keep it alive/
although the body will want but/
to return to random particles
|
183454
|
|
183374
|
"Merry Christmas, Willie."
|
183353
|
Having sex with her there made me feel like a child molester, I said. She said it made her excited.
|
