1803 6 5
|
“Can I feel it?” he reached his hands out immediately, expecting I’d say yes. I am the type to always say yes, right?
“Sure.” I confirmed, swallowing back my fear of his touch. He didn’t seem himself, like this. I led his hands to my hips and let them
|
1803107
|
Hurried, hassling suit in front of me is being awful to the barista. So she refuses to serve him, turning away.
|
180332
|
He was drinking heavily again and complaining that there was nothing fresh worth writing about.
|
180332
|
He lit another reed - a new score orchestrating in his head - his thoughts swirling around the older man; there was something else going on here…
|
180354
|
But no matter how we died, we all end up here, in the Meadowlark Children's Cemetery.
|
18032111
|
I am not the wind./
I am a stone eroded by the wind
|
180310
|
*A"Cento" which is a "patchwork poem" using the words of other writers. for V.W. …
|
180330
|
She burst
Into the glass shop
|
180372
|
When the black cloth falls on you all food tastes like airline food. Every song sounds like Barry Manilow. Every poem sounds like Rod McKuen. It’s all just noise to you now.
|
180396
|
Gather 'round children, For it's high time to tell, The story of a strange man With a horrible, awful smell. For this is a story More disgusting than most. This is the gruesome tale Of Gary Von Gross. With a house made…
|
180331
|
Why won’t my parakeet eat my diarrhea?
|
1803117
|
War came home tonight. We weep and hug, while he stares over our shoulders, like the statue we'll make of him. We pour a drink for his shaky hands, wheel him past his friends the dead, and lie to each other about other, far off places as if we knew.
|
180352
|
I know what he meant.
I've been in the 3 A.M. cream cheese.
I've known the hole in the bagel.
|
180310
|
I’ve done my part of the job in conservative clothing. Lonnie’s done her part looking like Dolly Parton.
|
180332
|
and i'm almost out of cigarettes,
and fireworks and sorority girls
scream
from down the street.
|
180320
|
It all started with a middle finger. This is where the chain of events began in Benjamin's mind as his mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood and the crunch of broken glass rolled against his teeth. The pickup followed much too closely, but Benjamin was too…
|
180255
|
Train 664 leaves Thirtieth Street Station bound for New York City at 10:55. Concurrently, Train 663 leaves the station, headed for Harrisburg. Both trains are, confusingly, called The Keystone.If Mark and I have tickets for Train 664 because we plan to…
|
180232
|
I've heard of sucessful marriages where there's very little sex.
My heart aches for that kind of love.
|
1802136
|
With the morning comes the repetition...
|
180231
|
behind the curtainof a ballsy fragilitythere lives an easethat was not easythere exists a gracethat is not always gracefulbeauty can maskcheekbones that sometimes look sadwhen they are smilingeven grin determinationneeds downtimethe prize is still thereeven if the eyes…
|
1802103
|
When she was nineteen, she began to brew a baby in her belly. She named it, and sang to it, and organized the leftover hand-me-downs that hadn't been worn ragged through by the first seven sets of recipients.
|
1802129
|
now the days are empty
and time has lost its head
|
18021212
|
They'd taken so much: ivory, rubber, copper, gold. Wealth for the grabbing. No remorse.
|
180297
|
When I first arrived/footling-breeched/you two were there/ahead of me.
|
180223
|
But the boy next door is worse than a dweeb; he's a prima donna and a bully and a little shit to boot. The divorce will only make him more.
|
18021512
|
You should have
marked that territory like a conquistador,
mounted him like an equestrian, left no
what-ifs in your wake.
|
180200
|
|
180263
|
Suds, like gossamer bandages at her wrists, concealed the turbulence below but could not relieve it.
|
180153
|
Although still uncertain of whether she was a she fish or a he fish (she definitely hated being an it fish), the fish liked what she saw of Nags Head. Finally, a world that gave her a choice. And felt no need to verify whether she was a real she fish, or just a he fish…
|
180121
|
A sturdy and goatish original by know-nothing punks from the sticks. Who cares if we were puny and smelled like fresh milk? For a few years we played and rocked, even turned the Appalachian soundscape a little brown at the edges. At least at first. Mainly
|
