1723 6 6
|
some days are
minotaur shit on your tongue/
smokestacks dumping acid rain on your already thinning hair
your eyelashes pinned in upside down, backward/you give wrong shaving directions to the mirror
|
172391
|
Literary agents, also editors,
But most assuredly not my creditors,
Someday they won’t mean jack to me—
The people who won’t get back to me.
|
172377
|
fuck you Charles Bukowski
go cry in your eggs in a Jersey diner
|
172397
|
I remember meeting you many years later.
|
172300
|
If they don’t cover consequences in your gifted and talented program, you may care to research it.
|
172345
|
Lawrence Light had two degrees: business and theology. I liked the clean font he chose for his resume. At the interview, his face was open. His eyes were bright.
|
172322
|
Remembering you is easy
We do it every day,
When little Mike and Joey
Ask when the hell is Daddy ever coming home to play?
|
172233
|
two roses her eyes
aqua-blue
no, blue-green
|
172251
|
His shirt, striped, fuzzy, is of fabric like velour and wreaks havoc with sunlight. His seat faces the aisle, I am sitting forward-faced across the aisle, we are on a half-full city bus, this afternoon.It is a funny shirt so I smile. I am not smiling because of…
|
172243
|
Prabo was late.
It wasn’t like him, I thought, sitting on the steps of the Galle Face Hotel, the Indian Ocean pounding the beach abutting the nearby Galle Face Green and spraying fine mist everywhere. Or at least it didn’t seem like him.
|
17221210
|
I avoid weddings like the plague.
|
172286
|
My wife tells me/your dog has vomited/
on the carpet AGAIN!
|
172244
|
It was like watching one of those vintage eighteen-frames-per-second films of someone trying to open a stuck umbrella.
|
172265
|
go ahead
stick one more morsel
into that piehole
|
172201
|
This time, he didn’t admire the fish for very long. He was close to shore and tossed it up on the rocks. Before the fish could flop its way back to the water, Quentin lobbed a broad stone at its head.
|
17211911
|
Girl with glasses and
skinny fingers
playing with wires
|
172163
|
Morning's first blush, their world in repose. Sated, drained, spent; …
|
17211916
|
severe snow storm coming. I'm looking for a parking spot and listening to Machito & Charlie Parker
|
172143
|
I can hear the echoes clearly. They are distinct and crisp, almost as though they're all on exact trajectories to me from their final bounce, without any interference. Each sound, while unintelligible, seems to fit perfectly and expectantly into my ears
|
1721105
|
as I imagine only you canyou're the ocean on fire before anyone else hasbroken that ancient seal, or simply taken the first icy plunge.You can eatall the bitterfruit there is, but that stilldoesn't make theworld a more hatefulplace. Only people…
|
1721128
|
fetal position can make a man seem small. harmless. like the child your womb won't carry...
|
172151
|
And suddenly, I have this crazy impulse, so crazy and so puzzling I do not possess enough vocabulary and grammar skills to describe what is invisible and what is visible about it. The reader must excuse me and be attentive.
|
1721126
|
Every morning, Wilma's husband Richard would cross the street and visit with a neighbor, always after the neighbor's husband left for work. Wilma was a loner, never bothered with neighbors. She enjoyed sitting on her patio in her lounge chair,…
|
172142
|
One summer night, as I walked alone down the cracked sidewalk of Kentucky underneath a canopy of maples where the moonlight fell through branches and lit my path with uneven lines I wondered: where does the residue of lust and desire go when everything you want to…
|
172130
|
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…
|
17211211
|
|
172063
|
i thirst always
for that poetic mouthful
|
172081
|
The dowdy woman in fart nailed the vim.
|
172077
|
We are/no more than heartbeats on repeat.
|
172065
|
Santa’s stuck/you say? In the chimney of course./The lard-arsed ol’bastard struggling
|
