1737 7 4
|
It was impossible
that you wouldn't love me
|
173640
|
Children, afraid of dogs cried. There was uproar of melee. Children strained at their leashes to get away.
|
173633
|
Let's buy this robin's egg blue furniture. Okay. Let's buy this album full of wren songs. Uh, okay.
|
173697
|
It is a misdemeanor to fart in NYC churches.
In 1857, toilet paper was invented by a man living in NYC.
No one knows how long it took for the idea to fan out from there.
God only knows why it took so long,
or why NYC was at the epicenter of it all
|
173600
|
The moon is now at the corner on pace for the horizon. On top of a tall business building in Downtown Newark stop a woman in a hood cloak.
|
1736106
|
"He turns in his bed, and reaches for a body,
like the blind to braille."
|
173622
|
I think fat will just appear, like a narcotics cop at my door, or something.
|
1736119
|
Neglected long enough, uncalled for/
by the shrinking language of the day,//
my words abandon me.
|
173610
|
She was now sitting in her bathtub. The warmth of the water made her pale, rich vanilla skin flushed with the fullness of circulation as her pores continued to allow the passage of her toxins from her system.
|
173663
|
Bootsy awoke with a hangover that only brain surgery could cure, a hangover that caused a seam to open in the known universe, leaving Bootsy on one side while all other matter sped away, away.
|
1736113
|
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
|
173632
|
and i'm almost out of cigarettes,
and fireworks and sorority girls
scream
from down the street.
|
173522
|
John was sitting at his computer one night after work, when he read an article linked to him by a friend.
|
173500
|
Being awake for the sunrise, that is the good planfor writing poemsand listening to enginesbirdsand bus stop silence.Now, I'm going to smokeout back on my roof porchfrom this atticapartmentin this desert land of big-titted blondesand listen to stadium fansrage…
|
17351917
|
|
1735109
|
|
173531
|
My small kitchen has barely enough room to turn around in, yet I had the feeling I was being watched. When I experience it again, just seconds later, I realize it was eyes watching, actual eyes, not a camera or machine.
|
173564
|
Kai,
Oh the mathematics of solitude. I wish your father there. I read your wanting subtracted between the lines. He is almost gone. Hallucinates, not awake even though eyes are open. Yesterday he saw the baby brother you never met. I light four ultramarine…
|
173584
|
"This tastes like goat cheese," I said.
|
173574
|
You're on the Ferris wheel, and the wind is blowing just a little bit, and the sky is invisible behind a wash of white clouds, and your little yellow box tips when you look down, down to the fairway swinging. In the boxes below grandmothers are shrieking …
|
173452
|
Almost to the elevation of regret.
|
17341710
|
The list of things to live for/
shortens with age. The list of regrets/
lengthens.
|
173432
|
I've heard of sucessful marriages where there's very little sex.
My heart aches for that kind of love.
|
173410
|
Creamcheese straightened out that spectacular yellow dress, tucking a fully exposed nipple back in under the material. She pulled down the hem of the dress, then strolled right into the Savoy like a wooden duck being pulled on a string, and headed straigh
|
17342011
|
The stunned son knelt to understand then fell, his heart shredded by the hollow point.
|
173421
|
We got Bob Dylan on the wall
wriggling from the lack of music
and light among the spheres
A great doubt has been raised
and can be seen from far, far away
for they are even afraid now in heaven
that things can’t be going right
and to
|
173421
|
In the dream Yesler rolled, a broad avenue made of fine yellow dust, from Third down toward Second, and I made my way in the silence and bright morning air. To my left on the corner of Second stood the old Mocambo cafe and lounge, home to drag…
|
1734137
|
His note said: “I’m sick of low attendance.”
|
173466
|
No one writes epics anymore. Why? Perhaps it's because we no longer share mythologies. Once there was a shepherd, and now there is a Google bus loaded with pricks. Yes, you say, but they are good at math. Each and every one of them. And this is true. I envy them…
|
173485
|
They are plastering on lipstick in pay-to-enter toilets
around the corner from the mosques, where old men
sit on back streets selling toilet seats, spices by the
shovel, flashlights, and Audrey Hepburn t-shirts
|
