1773 7 5
|
In the beginning was the Word and the Word was God. What on Earth does that mean? What the hell? Earth, hell, heaven, they were good concepts. He took a rib out of Adam and began to write with it.
|
177312
|
“Why do you write filth?” they howl
|
1773106
|
Blending in at a rock concert in ballet flats was harder than I thought it would be. The heavy eye makeup and lit cigarette I never brought to my lips put me somewhere between “Trying Too Hard” and “Bless Her Heart.”
|
177395
|
The border crossing at El Paso will soon be arriving. I'm apprehensive about Mexico, all the violence.
|
177363
|
If he had not just decapitated a chicken, he was a man I could have loved.
|
1773108
|
Toxins make a body happy/
as if acceleration toward//
an end of consciousness/
is its own reward.
|
177300
|
Mayra heard the bell ring and opened the door to her small home in downtown Havana. Mayra was in her 50's and had the beautiful dark olive skin of most Cuban people who have a mix of Caucasian and Negro in their blood.
|
177376
|
I’m supposed to be writing poems but it’s Saturday morning and I’m watching cartoons.
|
177365
|
The robot may be grabbing onto something so big I'm mistaking it for the countryside, or the sunset. I could just be one cog in an infinite chain of leg-attachment, stretching from the cosmos to the sub-atomic.
|
177366
|
At night, I wake up, and Daddy's in the bathroom with a hanger in his mouth....
|
1773106
|
Rarely is Quay Street so clean,
Monday in rain,
Neactain’s ticking over with
Slow jazz and crosswords,
Stout and steaming anoraks.
|
177254
|
It turns out I know a thing or two about momentum. I know, I know. Like the crescendo of your bicycle wheels. Like the force the florist put on the stems the day Linda died. The way my fingers spin between planetary mass. This is how I know I’m not real
|
1772108
|
That's demeaning enough, but not as hard to take as the customers. They're all jaded hipsters, thumb diddling smartphone freaks, pretending their online interactions actually count as relationships and that “tweets” are real conversations. It's sad, reall
|
177296
|
I have always admired flat-chested women.
|
177299
|
Requires one of those leaps.
|
17722010
|
I invited Van Gogh over for some drinks and a chat. I'm talking about Vincent.
|
177297
|
It doesn't have to be force grown betweenus. We entwine naturally. It's agood feeling to have a friend who at oncedoesn't require a hothouse ceiling laidbetween each invisible touch. There's justwind. There's just rain. There's just sun. There's just you.There's just…
|
1772115
|
when thoughts of you
waffle in through memories scent
|
177285
|
The strange bones of language
wander the room.
|
1772156
|
It was not that he was boring – it’s just that he needed a lot of encouragement. When he came, he whispered to himself, ‘ohgodohgodohgod’ - like it was something to be ashamed of, to be sorry for. I wanted to hold him close against me but I also n
|
17721811
|
hoping for a happy outcome/
like a kindly voice on the line
|
177232
|
Not a fuss, not a stink,
The eulogy, deep, will make one think,
Grandmother, sat in back, will wink
|
177260
|
The two walked around, taking in all the classics: the imported Russian matryoshka dolls of varying styles and bright colors; spinning tops, red Radio Flyer wagons, kaleidoscopes, and wooden yo-yo's invoked memories of Christmases past. The hand-stitched
|
177200
|
"Sorry, I need to confirm the results." Sal turned to Paul. "Is it true that you got stood up?"
|
177220
|
|
177296
|
One frozen hand protruded from the snow.
|
177275
|
When you encounter a body laying on the road, drive over it.
|
177255
|
This may be too religious for you, as at first it was so with me. But I assure you, on my scholarly integrity, I have found the Genesis Serpent’s skin! Yes, that Genesis Serpent--though just a leftover piece of him,
|
17721411
|
I visited the grave of Rimbaud. / It was pale blue
|
177266
|
It was always your body that told so much --
lips working some secret out
|
