1810 5 5
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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…
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1810 4 0
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Children, afraid of dogs cried. There was uproar of melee. Children strained at their leashes to get away.
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1810 4 2
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Maybe she was crying before she got on the coach at Marble Arch, settled in the seat across from me, but by the time we reach Victoria Gate, tears stream down her face, mouth open to receive her own sacrament.Indian, ageless in tasteful floral, a blue sweater despite summer…
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1810 21 11
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I am not the wind./
I am a stone eroded by the wind
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1810 0 0
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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.
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1810 15 9
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She called it phantom energy. She said it was costing us money every month. A few cents here and there, sure, but it all added up.
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1810 6 6
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War The once shining lake was busy draining itself. All the better cared for boats were looking like disjointed discarded single shoes in a messed up paint chipped closet. No one was thinking well okay a leaky sole is better than a wounded heel. You get the…
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1810 7 2
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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.
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1810 9 5
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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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1810 9 6
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It's because poetry would not do
because the fireflies were alive that night, aflame
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1810 9 7
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God's real name is Frank, and he stops by all the time. He tries to dump that cheap Xmas candy on us.
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1810 4 2
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God's honest truth, I wake up every morning when my clock punches out its dulcet, insistent clangs, a setting called Ultra Zen Up & Out. I brush my teeth with a blue dollar store toothbrush and watch one of the five morning TV shows designed to let me know the weather…
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1810 9 9
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Andalusia I. partners in sunset the hawk and I in ballet ..............................he:..........the small flame in the wind ..............................I:............the last tremor of grace the…
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1810 10 7
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Most everything is white because white means clean and hospitals are supposed to be clean. They wouldn’t let me leave.
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1810 9 7
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When I first arrived/footling-breeched/you two were there/ahead of me.
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1810 8 6
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Get something cheap and light at Target. Trash hell out of it. Encourage baby to urp up in it.
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1809 0 0
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Dr. van Roos reminded the group that trauma is trauma...
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1809 2 1
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Sarge had done this before. Not with this many rookies and not on a one-way trip. This was a suicide mission. The boys didn't know it, but he did. They weren't coming back. Hell, they couldn't come back
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1809 16 11
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In my upper room, a sermon/
was playing about sundry.
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1809 3 1
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Why won’t my parakeet eat my diarrhea?
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1809 5 2
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I know what he meant.
I've been in the 3 A.M. cream cheese.
I've known the hole in the bagel.
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1809 12 12
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They'd taken so much: ivory, rubber, copper, gold. Wealth for the grabbing. No remorse.
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1809 0 0
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1809 6 3
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Suds, like gossamer bandages at her wrists, concealed the turbulence below but could not relieve it.
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1809 8 8
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Today the color of the skyremakes my heart into somethingless willing to break, or to judge,and I am thankful for it. Acolor not unlike walking chestdeep in the ocean and seekingbeautiful clouds and thinking Iwill be back. Dreaming with the sky.Please stop lying to me. A…
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1808 18 13
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One must be drenched in words.
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1808 3 0
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She burst
Into the glass shop
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1808 2 1
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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
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1808 13 6
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With the morning comes the repetition...
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1808 11 7
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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.
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