1740 20 9
|
feeling empty as the
bottom of a bottle
dry as a bone
in death valley alone
|
1740127
|
Identification both ways was BooBoo, case sensitive.
|
17401211
|
I walked to work back then...
|
174000
|
There won't be dancing, anymore. That isn't true, that can't be true; but there is no floor to dance on, you know?
|
1740117
|
On his knees
he divinates diverging lines
with belly laughs he levitates
the rebel spheres into geodes .
|
174033
|
You were sitting on dark leather meringue, wearing slit ivy, epilated thighs sliding through, roots showing beneath your anaemic skin, fighting with the pale bluegreen of your veins. Quills extended from your left hand, bent about 10.2 degrees or so.
|
174054
|
[marbles] [blither-blather] [blarg]
|
174033
|
|
174000
|
“I feel like my bones are melting.” Her arms are wrapped around her body tightly, like she’s trying to hold herself together. She’s shaking; I can hear it with every breath she takes.
|
174000
|
Lulu Petite was sitting in a lounge chair by the side of the pool when she heard the man splash into the water, almost unnoticed by the guests milling around the backyard of the palatial estate. Everybody, seemingly, was involved in a balancing act of one
|
173964
|
She'd still rest her fingers on your back, and her smile still lit the lantern of your soul.
|
173995
|
Parsimony, Sage Advice, Alimony, and Time.
That would be one.
The Waste Land. The Hollow Men. The Red Wheelbarrow.
There are others,
But I have definite shoe anxiety dreams and can’t get over them.
Do not Go Gently Into That Good Night. Alone
|
173984
|
The house had to be clean - I mean thorough-clean - when he got home from the pit for his tea, or he’d throw his plate at the wall and the gravy would run down onto the carpet. There was always gravy.
|
173941
|
Each drip off the corrugated plastic sheeting made a tinny sound that he could hear from deep within the damp sleeping bag and layers of blankets where he was trying to sleep.
|
173942
|
Take shelter from the rain inside the Museum of Sex.
|
173911
|
i killed a poetic boy yesterday. the old ladies in theshadows swore at him when he was walking home proud ashell with a new pocketknife. they told him we dienext week so laugh like you got limes for balls. hecalled them drippy old vultures in his native tongue.they didn't…
|
173950
|
Flash’s hackles stood brushlike but he kept his head bowed just enough beneath the bigger dog’s stare to delay the inevitable fight. Flash, Mal thought approvingly, would pick the time and place.
|
17391312
|
|
173931
|
The man next to me on the Shinkansen from Tokyo to Kyoto makes me think of the smokers I’ve kissed.
|
1738113
|
“Your husband is an asshole, isn’t he?” he asks.
|
173800
|
He took off his sombrero and playfully placed it on my head. “And really, don’t be upset. You’re fine. There’s nothing wrong with loving your cat.”
He was right, there is nothing wrong with loving your cat. But there is something wrong with owning a di
|
173874
|
and the moon shines on like a silver dollar
and coyotes in the desert scream and holler
|
17381810
|
It’s Sunday- no need to shave-/
but shave, I do. A little act//
of discipline in the discipline/
of routine.
|
173821
|
I knew I spoke out of turn when I asked my father's old friend Charlie Jobe what he thought would come of moving to the veterans' camp, or "Village of the Deranged", as the newspaper has since taken to calling it. That was their description after all the
|
173845
|
On Soapography, two actresses are discussing
everyone’s personal heaven, and in another room
you can hear a woman who is your dead mother
combing her hair in a doctor’s smock in a dream,
|
17381212
|
Your mother is a great and dying bird. Once, she tended her grand feathered nest. Once, she preened.
|
173865
|
the names / she carried (within)
|
173800
|
The day I met Griffin Burns was the worst day of my adult life. However, it wasn't a series of unfortunate events, one mistake which followed an unlucky break which followed a bad situation; nothing …
|
173853
|
Slept on a chair last night in the Springfield, Mass., bus terminal. It was March, and a dude in shorts asked: "Yo, you smoke trees?" I said, "Sure. Who doesn't?" He said, "You buyin'?" I said, "Nope, I'm going out of the country." He smiled and said, "Alright." He started…
|
173876
|
I’m supposed to be writing poems but it’s Saturday morning and I’m watching cartoons.
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