1733 6 5
|
There is an empty space,
between every note in rock 'n' roll,
where they have buried John Bonham,
|
17332210
|
Let’s play a game. I’m thinking of a word.
Do we have to?
|
173300
|
And there sat one man. Searching for words and solace. The silence returned and the colors peeled off from the walls. Darkness returned with fledgling light. He threw back his head and filled the emptiness with his laugh. He laughed in mirth and in misery
|
173300
|
I blinked the darkness out of my eyes and saw the man again; I could smell his breath. Just like dad’s. I must have fallen asleep. My eyes felt so heavy. I was cold. Why was I cold?
|
173365
|
|
173353
|
Smoking is like hooking up with an ex-girlfriend: you know she's bad for you and that it won't work out, but it feels so familiar and comfortable and so easy to slide back into.
|
1733107
|
I reached for that hair and the air zagged white...
|
1733136
|
The clacking ventilator reminds me of ice cubes rattling in your highball...
|
1733105
|
As a boy I fished under the Tappan Zee bridge which spans the Hudson River above New York City.
|
173296
|
A horizon shrinks a burden until it’s a seagull getting fat off vinegar fries. I’m in love with the way your mouth moves when you aren’t talking. When it fills with salt.
|
173220
|
There's this sepia-toned photograph, which my mother gave me, of my brother and me when we were still both youngsters. In the picture my brother's dressed in a skimpy checked suit whose sleeves were already too short for him — on its way to becoming my
|
173252
|
But I still don't have my underwear in the right place.
|
173276
|
On Saturdays, we pull out big white poster boards, magic markers, and draw babies.
|
173265
|
There’s a hole in my sock, just large enough that my big toe keeps slipping out.
|
1732147
|
|
17321211
|
Coward, cuckold, she taunts: So be it. He's not a young man anymore, nor as clever as he once was, or thought.
|
173262
|
"What the fuck are you looking at, Carl?" She snaps, turning her head toward me as the truck edges off the road and into a field of tobacco, into those broad green leaves of ancient sacristy and modern ablution. This is not a blissful kind of field. It is not full…
|
173297
|
They rise up, a sullen, sorrowful/
army of reproach, staring,//
stone-faced but eyed with fire.
|
173296
|
I cannot begin to list all the ways this conversation can go downhill from here, so I hang up the phone quietly.
|
173298
|
All were part of the household of Court Astronomer Tycho Brahe (1546-1601)
who lost his nose in a duel as a student
and went through life thereafter wearing a gold prosthetic one instead
and who met and fell in love with a commoner who bore him eigh
|
173100
|
There is a feeling in my hands,
fingers,
a restive, potential energy,
drawing inward, reaching
|
173182
|
Entering that darkroom is like slipping through the barrel of a rifle.
|
1731107
|
Hurried, hassling suit in front of me is being awful to the barista. So she refuses to serve him, turning away.
|
173110
|
[He] practiced aromatherapy and licentiousness, in no particular order.
|
1731169
|
If love could only by heat be bound
|
173121
|
Five o’clock, and Madame choosing her evening legs. Elizabeth assisting. Elizabeth will continue to assist until midnight, despite the chaos, at which point the authorities will tell her such assistance is no longer necessary.
|
173153
|
"...you are a freak of nature..."
|
17311213
|
The mulch vendor is a crook but we have no choice, not with the shortage of soil. Have to guard the stuff, put alarm wires around the garden, leave a friend in charge to spot the thieves if you go away overnight. If you…
|
17301611
|
I don't know how long I was down on the curb. When I came around it took several minutes to realize that it wasn't the moon overhead at all but a street light and the sticky feeling stuff I was lying in was, yeah, my blood. And the hand on my shoulder wasn't hers. I…
|
1730115
|
when thoughts of you
waffle in through memories scent
|
