1732 4 4
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When I got that brain tumor I hallucinated this crazy doctor. Dr. Doug. He came into my…
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173253
|
"and I turned to you, at some joke we shared,
and saw winter ease its hand,"
|
1732167
|
It's time, more than anything
|
173275
|
Perhaps you have heard the rumors of big money in poetry
Maybe that’s why everybody is writing it these days
Even Emily Dickinson must have heard these rumors
Myself, I suspected as much 50 years ago
And started early to accumulate my hoard of poe
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173211
|
On an overcast and humid day in August, Jesus—with Dad’s permission, of course—decided to make his grand return.
|
1732105
|
moonbeams unrecognized language
steadies my course
|
173264
|
This Tippy’s name was Cheryl — something both of them were so far not committing to paper or saying. Unusual in a salesman, she thought. He is insincere and intends to sell her something.
|
173196
|
I held her hand through two divorces, I warned her that gorgeous Geoffrey was homosexual when she was oblivious, and I fed her children when she was off at rehab (four times before it 'took').
|
17312312
|
The skin will stay but you won’t see it,/
camouflaged by creases, tags, and curious/
deposits of renegade fat and pigment.
|
173152
|
This is Peter’s office. The room is small, and the wood paneling is painted white. Light colors, Peter has been told, make a room appear larger.
|
173141
|
The little girl spooned strawberry yogurt into her mouth as a pleasant morning breeze swept across the balcony of the hotel. The girl lifted the cup and stuck her tongue inside to lick the yogurt off the edges. Across the small round table, the girl's mother sat…
|
173165
|
LECTURES A Bra Burning When Freud painted “Envy,” the women collapsed, holding fans to their faces. Hot that year, they retired to the Tyrols. 50 Days of Palindromes Although Thiebaud painted cakes like women,…
|
173177
|
I can barely pick out the numbers on the houses
|
173143
|
“I want you to know that you are being watched,” Ernie said. “I have trained a camera on your work station.”
|
17312011
|
The nearsighted world/
puts on its lenses
|
173177
|
fuck you Charles Bukowski
go cry in your eggs in a Jersey diner
|
173100
|
As airplanes fly low over her children playing in the kiddie pool on the front lawn, Maureen learns something else about her father's new house that lies in the flight path of an international airport.
|
1731148
|
Yes, he'll be quiet. Very quiet. He rocks himself, the ark, suddenly imagining water underneath him, over head, all around. Water, water, water—
|
173160
|
We may not be capable of even trying to appreciate the fact of mortality until we are somewhat older—let's say 18 years old. But, from the age of 18 until we die—and die we will; we know that—we have the opportunity to spend some time thinking abou
|
173130
|
Chapter one I was sitting in the doctor's office. For weeks, my nerves had been on edge, and I had been feeling like he was going to have a nervous breakdown. I needed the help of a professional. It was hard for me to admit this. I was taught that a man handled…
|
173033
|
two roses her eyes
aqua-blue
no, blue-green
|
173011
|
I used to love myselfin hidden burstsforbidden momentsof pleasure in my morning bedlater, I numbedmy senses and stumbled blindlyinto wild sensationsof releaseand called itecstasyintensity is a drugfear, grief, anger,as seductive as joy,makes the heart pump,the blood rush…
|
173066
|
“When I was six years old, Dad came home from Vietnam and picked me and Mama up from her sister's house in Boston. We packed a U-Haul with everything we owned from T.V. to toothbrush. Dad hitched the trailer to the Rambler and drove us South, back home to Carolina. A…
|
173063
|
Morning's first blush, their world in repose. Sated, drained, spent; …
|
173082
|
13 rooks on a lifeless tree
|
173055
|
awoke in confusion, fear and hurt never seen before that day a year past
|
173075
|
They politely urged him not to get too involved with his creations.
|
173045
|
. . . a visitor from the preceding century would have been aghast to the point of vomiting to behold the regard with which pandas were now held almost universally.
|
173033
|
eleven o'clock spills
despair all over
our bedspread
|
173052
|
Now they are sleeping in a poppy field, sun-drenched warm afternoon girls lying on their stomachs and sides, faces in flowers, and flowers blowing, blowing. If this afternoon were every afternoon, the world would be cured.
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