1862 1 1
|
He shivered in his robe and pajama pants as the showdown with the piggy bank continued on this dark winter’s night. He couldn’t resist the cute dots for eyes, the stubby legs and perked up ears.
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1862 15 13
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We lived on the edge of a tiny Iowa town, and picked corn fields were steps away.
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1862 2 1
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God forbid you should break one of the camps precious “rules,” which were more or less like the Ten F'ing Commandments around there.
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1862 16 13
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Their nouns are few and stark./
Ours are numerous and dappled/
or subtly shaded and shadowed/
by circumstance and possibility.
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1861 1 0
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On the day they were born, the old mother eagle named her chicks Faith, Hope, and Charity.
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1861 5 4
|
You left your quiet life for a home in the city.
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1861 4 1
|
On the way home, “Friendly honk,” he said.
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1861 3 1
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Everything is painted black that isn’t glass, velvet, neon, or chrome. The club is cold, and the DJ who broke-up with me while I forgot I was stoned is spinning his favorites to an empty floor. Endings have a rhythm. I heard this one coming. I can hear it
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1861 2 1
|
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.
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1861 12 11
|
The cataclysm of all those photons/
mad to be a part of you
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1861 0 0
|
There was a whole group of us Young Turk poets who hung out at the Savoy Tivoli in North Beach. Most of them drove cabs, (whereas I was now working in a damned gas station for Angel, my publisher’s man, who got me a job there.) They would double-park thei
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1861 0 0
|
His thought was shattered then by the horrible grind of the telephone in the hall. Surely not for me, he thought. One of the other tenants has a friend who’s landed vipivka, no doubt after 39 straight days of hunt. Booze is so damnably hard to find
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1861 5 2
|
Some books are like old friends and when you read them, you no longer feel alone.
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1861 12 11
|
When I no longer know you, what signal will you give to remind me that you and I once loved?
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1860 6 5
|
He was a beautiful older man, late sixties, who reminded me of a movie star with a thick mane of silver hair parted neatly from left to right and eyes the color of that stretch of Pacific Ocean between San Pedro and Catalina Island, the calming blue of a carefree weekend…
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1860 7 6
|
Residual flashbacks; just tiny bright lightning bolts that flash in front of my eyes, just like standing watching a soaring bonfire on a cold and frosty November night, pinprick sparks flying up into the endless darkness of the night.
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1860 10 8
|
Nothing good comes from being lowered into a well to take a photograph, boy
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1860 9 4
|
A jollier zombie you shall never find. You must trust me on this!
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1860 7 5
|
I am standing in the kitchen, kneading dough, because this is one way to say sorry. This is way to say, things will be different now, look.
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1860 4 4
|
["This is not a snippet of text. This is only a test."]
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1860 8 4
|
He had become an accessory to a murder.
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1860 0 0
|
I would be the mortal to hand justice to God. It wouldn’t come in the form of steel from a blade or by gun powder of a revolver, but by my disbelief...
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1860 3 3
|
The night wrapped its arms around us as we drove west, taking the highway past Medford towards Philly. The kids were asleep in the backseat and we were both counting the mile markers, staring out the windows with quiet eyes. I listened to the drone of the…
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1860 5 1
|
“What would you think if I committed adultery?”
She pauses very briefly before replying.
“What, you got time on your hands?”
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1859 8 4
|
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…
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1859 1 2
|
In the cicada's cry No sign can foretell How soon it must dieBasho "Hear the locusts?" The woman lifts the child's head. "Hear em, baby?" The child looks blankly in the…
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1859 15 7
|
These days I wear a flag pin.
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1859 8 8
|
Sometimes you've just got to dance to Be heard. You have got to sing out loud To be understood. Other times No matter what you splash 'n' paint on 'em The beauty goes on shamelessly Not arousing any type of newfound Curiosity. We're…
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1859 9 5
|
A little contempuous aside by the critical theorist guy, Frederick Jameson-- that it was logically absurd to call anything that human beings do, produce or effect “unnatural,”-- has brought forth the following. We are…
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1859 5 3
|
He was corporate then, young, his wife gorgeous, the collar flipped up on his twill overcoat, a lit cigarette in one hand, the other around his wife’s waist. They stood outside. It looked chilly. She wore a hat. He looked bulletproof.
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