1535 4 3
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153553
|
Maybe you, citizen, should be a jerk. Jerks get where they are going. You, citizen, what about you? Handy, dandy, where’s the jerk? Conformists. Sheep. All of you, all of us, boiling out our radiators. Spending our day, our days, our lives in coope
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1534115
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I enjoyed the talking part though
rambling on and on for lord knows
why or how
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15341916
|
severe snow storm coming. I'm looking for a parking spot and listening to Machito & Charlie Parker
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1534107
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1534105
|
He was instantly on her, pulling at her nightgown
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153465
|
The clarinet and the accordion are brothers, I see. Big, fat men with curly, klezmer hair.
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1534910
|
it's time for the cold, antiseptic
cloth to briskly remove the evidence.
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1534139
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I don’t remember much about kindergarten.... The teacher’s name was Mrs. Halverson. She was nice.
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153441
|
I am reintroducing myself.
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153466
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This tall, very blonde, very female, friend of mine. . . .
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153422
|
I look down at my free of clothing genitalia and curiously note that the testicles sprout from above my erect penis, and my scrotum is so taut, hard and shriveled as to conjure squished images of a gigantic pink peanut.
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153444
|
I considered kissing Christian. It wouldn’t be terrible. I mean, it might be terrible, but it wouldn’t be awful. His teeth were a little crooked but he didn’t smell or anything.
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153411
|
Un consejo esconde un futuro desastre. Es como si Mar le dijese a Desierto "amigo...impresionante. Dejate elevar por la atracción de Luna y verás". Y Desierto le replicase "está bien, y tú Mar, deja que Viento lleve tus olas hasta el nacimiento de los ríos, es brutal". …
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153420
|
Contemporary persecution of Christians takes on milder forms of torture like having to explain away something Pat Robertson said, or constantly having to hear about Fred Phelps picketing funerals because he happens to hate homosexuals.
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153451
|
I want you closeI want to feel youinside me,softening me untilmy borders are blurredand I'm hardly breathing,my heart swellingso big itbrings me to my knees,I want to know thepain of losing youeach time youclose your eyes andgo to sleep anddream of someone else,I want to…
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153498
|
I could trust that most nights I would drop off to sleep at around midnight and shortly thereafter dream an “us dream”, a how we were dream, a sensing of our bodies undulating, then moving faster, moving with the waves of a special music only we could hear, with…
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15331717
|
Something about shadows and last time and driving.
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1533154
|
This cell the sole certainty,
all else steeped in mystery.
Why should we be here?
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1533177
|
a song jolts my memory . . .
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15331412
|
Usually I’m the only guy in a roomful of women. Some of them are foxy, too.
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153354
|
Time has wings. They are bright and beautiful, like those of a butterfly. They are delicate wings, and they carry the years away from my decaying mind. I would break those wings if I could, for tomorrow I turn seventy-three, and I grow weary of their ince
|
153333
|
By February, I had decided,
That you'd tear out my throat every morning
if it meant your favorite song would play from my neck.
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153355
|
Vibrations of a cavern a mile beneath silver willows.At two in the morning beyond the Sheratona lumination of pollution intercedes realism.Cardinals and doves develop their melodyprogressively caught in beat/heart echoes,as with spelunker canaries fluting noxious gasa small…
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153300
|
Rosea plays a bohemian plainsong for the cosmonauts among us, while her fuzzy apple hips spit glitter, spin strobes: pink shades of pantyline flicker; lip-licked neon hues scrape strings in B sharp, a gloomy clue.
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15331711
|
Each little token is the world/
as you knew it at each time and place
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153354
|
A Texas man was recently arrested for failing to return a GED study guide to his local public library. He'd kept it out for three years. This is the kind of news story that brings joy to a librarian's heart.The library where I work just installed a…
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153300
|
Home is where my parents live and my relatives visit.
|
15331212
|
I picked out a book to read on the airplane. The title was The Function of the Orgasm by Wilhelm Reich.
|
153342
|
Something was changing.
We could sense it in the circling air. A loss of stillness - and we'd been still for so long.
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