1837 21 8
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Wind pummeled me awake, smelling of pine and some quality of newness I could not identify...
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18371913
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but I pretend again I've kept the prairie/
out, have battled back the smoke and dirt
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1837116
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In the boat on the way there I knew we'd see something spectacular, and was prepared.When the glacier dropped large pieces of ice into the Arctic ocean and sent a long wave at us, I screamed and screamed.My parents had their backs to the glacier and missed everything. …
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183762
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cotton balls in your ears do not deafen you to the rocking of your mother's bed...as she and the new uncle set forth on the turbulent sea of their maiden voyage.
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183784
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I've been mostly positive since joining up with Sister Helen. My previous pessimism involved spiritual degeneration, moral decline and decay, weak and weary instincts. I clung to life, afraid to die. Then I read something by Nietzsche, I'm not sure where but, like a seed,…
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18371311
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As I go by I see five, six high school kids standing on the corner waiting for the bus. They are huddled together like a bunch of ducks....
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183766
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Now, at last, she finds what she's been searching for. Worms. Like bitty pale larva, like half-moons of air trapped under fingernails. She thinks she sees one twitch; she blinks more furiously and hates herself for it.
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183700
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With her head thrown back and mouth open she howls into the dark green night, letting her gloved hands droop like the front paws of a dog. A large orange corsage attached to the bosom of her gown.
Around her thick neck, a ribbon of black velvet. Her p
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18371510
|
He died a printer finding late/
after so much selling himself selling/
a craft that pleased and paid enough
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183620
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Someone had shown me a page on the internet where writers could have their stories analyzed, seeing whose work their piece was similar to. Normally, I only went on the computer to find apartment listings and pornography.
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18361513
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I almost kept him
on the shelf with all the trophies.
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1836188
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She’s there, in a tin, loosely wound
beneath sepia tissue paper, a braid
to worry in your fingers.
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183694
|
“Are you my neighbor in 3D?” Was she?
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183642
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{A} So I think maybe I am a robot. If I was a robot, I would do lewd things, metallic (cold, hard, shiny, heavy, malleable, loud, acrid, industrial, immovable, unstoppable) things. I would do the things I do in my dark powerless dreams. People would understand and…
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1836113
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He had a country house, she said, but it was near the city. She said the house was about as old as he was and she loved it— from the wood-framed windows to the heavy wood doors... to the garden on the side of the house
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183600
|
Gone Heather,
with her hands in her hair,
silent for help,
over-involved now scared.
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18353020
|
We are moments away from the end, and it feels like it.
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18351310
|
Fortunately, when the bird hits the sliding glass doors in our den, I know what to do.
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183565
|
Resting bitch face strikes again.
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183555
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Each person in each car could be poetic/
Duende, but they look at each other and ask/“Did you fart?”
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183544
|
At any moment, she'll come outside to pick up the day’s newspaper. He can see it resting beneath the blooming crape myrtle, its plastic wrapper glistening with dew.
|
183553
|
They try to incorporate a little of Ravel around their edges, the ones where their molecules bump off into other parallel realities, into other non-localities, into other potentials. She isn't buying it. She's tuned in. And she can tell.
|
1834129
|
Particles flung by the sun
pierce us through, undetected
|
18341111
|
not to free ourselves//
from suffering//
but become the window//
through which it sees//
|
183432
|
That black hole isn't really a hole.
|
18341410
|
When we take Vengeance,/
shave and shower him,/
deodorize and scent him,/
clothe him in a starched shirt
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18341610
|
Two stories, limestone, gray shutters,next to the park.“We almost bought that house,” my father always saideach time we drove by.He doesn't go down that street anymore.What could have been taunts him from the sidewalks —two little girls and a bucket of…
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183444
|
I have a ball-pein hammer in my coat pocket.
|
183400
|
But I am quite sure,
in my loneliness,
there is nothing that aches inside me more,
than a desire to persist.
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183492
|
Dear Jackknife Ponderosa, I'm stupid. Let's move on. Let's move past the part where I complain, where I struggle with circumstance, where I display my petty arms, and shoot holes in the air. …
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