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"Did I have a dream, or did the dream have me?" - Rush, "Nocturne"
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15961312
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With such demeaning precarity, I can’t read/
anything more than a thousand words
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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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159534
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IT's like, 15 words. Do you really need a snippet?
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The world is having an off day. The sun is now lavender in color, soft on the eyes, and we stare at the new sun all day without ill effect.
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At five a family relative took my life away from me and no one cared
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Neglected long enough, uncalled for/
by the shrinking language of the day,//
my words abandon me.
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Bert also said that somebody else at the meeting was complaining about his high blood pressure, and Bert repeated what Hank had said, that he was glad to have any blood pressure at all.
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he took me hostage as I came out the door.
Nelson took me hostage and we went back to his parents' house. They were gone crappie fishing so I had to spend the whole weekend alone with him. I didn't have anything lined up for Saturday night, so it wasn'
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Only scotch and cheap champagne/
retain their reliable flavors.
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She looks exactly like my sister, though I do not have a sister.
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And the ocean was black and green and blue—as your dress that clung to your body’s curve. Round as the bend of the water trailing the false line of the shore.
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The suite of dark rooms/
extends forever./
It’s no big deal.
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"I who?" Mrs Caterpillar slithered closer to the door, peeping through the peephole with her stemma. Upon visual inspection, she discovered that it was Mr Earthworm standing outside in the rain.
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159400
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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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"He turns in his bed, and reaches for a body,
like the blind to braille."
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For the briefest moment, she was part of the sky. She hung there. Frozen. Suspended. Arms outstretched. She thought maybe she could take off flying, if she strained against gravity hard enough. She would soar into the pale blue until she reached the clouds. They …
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Somewhere in her the name triggers/
a grainy chain of Cheech & Chong
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It's the little things that trip us
up: a small hole in a level field,
an innocuous root in a well-trod
path, a disinclined sidewalk...
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Everyone else in the bar was looking everywhere else: it was as though they were alone while Journey played loudly all around. “Streetlights, people,” she sang. Time didn't move. What she must be like while driving, singing to herself with the windows fog
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What in the name of God’s green earth does this say? “Chifferobe if you can of Aztec in coffee can”?
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I threw my hand / at the gearshift/
the car glided off.
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He was supposed to be a garden gnome. Give pause to the squirrels, keep an eye on the impatiums. We found him at Wegman’s. He looked hopeful and observant.
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He didn't hide it. He told her he was a mortician when he called. He had responded to her ad in the Lonely Hearts section of the newspaper.
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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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At the third or fourth discotheque I drink so much I accidentally find myself happy.
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