1515 9 3
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“You have no idea what your lives will be like if you can get out of the ‘hood. You could be driving Volvos, eating Tuscan cuisine, getting MacArthur ‘genius’ grants!”
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1515910
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For instance, my sister's husband. If I say brown socks, yellow boxer shorts, fishnet undershirt. If I say plastic bag and two tepid beers. And a voice that glides to falsetto when he: you're a tad too obscene for my taste, Julia, while he tries to light the filter end of…
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151411
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"Shit," said the Charge Nurse. "Not again."
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151421
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"For several days thinking they had found a dead man’s boot beside the highway..."
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151483
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the sound of ashes/ being poured in the kitchen
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151465
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The clarinet and the accordion are brothers, I see. Big, fat men with curly, klezmer hair.
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1514158
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What's that snitch doin' here?
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151422
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...you should pick a VERY OLD millionaire. Very old, and NOT VERY WELL...
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151431
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Let us be stranded in the Andes and have to eat human flesh or at least toothpaste to survive! Let there be an earthquake! Let there be a flood! Let there be a tornado, a new ice age, an invasion from Mars. Only: let me survive.
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151464
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But I had learned from ingesting Roberto’s glitter-eyed fear, it could make you never close enough, and then, never far enough away. And both at the same time.
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151320
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I was ashamed of my conscience.
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151333
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That’s true, you know, what they said about the drummer and spontaneous combustion.
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151321
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He called me one Friday when I was a kid and told me he wanted to go trout fishing. He had dreamt that I was a worm or a fly -- he couldn't remember which -- but he was sure I would bring good luck to the stream. The next morning, before grandma awoke, I
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151366
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israeli flares light gaza/ casting incandescent nudity/ upon jumbled puzzle piece buildings.
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151310
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I was shooting baskets in the driveway when the Mexican kid delivered the groceries. He drove in fast and loud . . .
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151351
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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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1513109
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Cinema Verite’ is the best book of poems I have encountered since Matthea Harvey’s Modern Life
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151200
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The church pews were straining at the crowds who had come to see David get saved. There was no salvation in the water really, but the Baptists preached the gospel of immersion. There was a certain Baptist church in Kentucky that pressured a man who'd been sprinkled to get…
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151210
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He first saw her stepping off a water taxi by the Long Docks in the rain at night, her right arm atrophied from some early childhood disease, dangling like an apology, her other holding a cigarette. Her wet black hair hung past her shoulders and her eyes
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1512125
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the memories return like they do every year at this time
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151262
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Eddie meets Sarah Packard, a “college girl” played by Piper Laurie. She walks with a limp, a fact Eddie doesn’t notice at first because she’s sitting down at a diner table in a bus station. She’s alcoholic and writes poetry.
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15121717
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Something about shadows and last time and driving.
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151200
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When we talked about the lasagna, we were, I see now, talking about different things. I.e., I was talking about lasagna, and you were talking about almost everything but. You weren't talking about the dry, burnt noodles or…
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151254
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Everyone hoped to be assigned somewhere they could just drop in on their way home for Memorial Day weekend. Someone said, Blake, you’re single. You hate your family, don’t you?
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151200
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...the fatal bleeding-out of the love receptors. They call it “Juliet's Tears.”
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151241
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In mid dream, mid journey, there's a barrier we must cross, flat and vast like an ocean. We're told the barrier is a monster. To cross the barrier we must maim one of its eyes. There, rising to the surface is half a large…
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151200
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Sora rubbed her neck as Azure gave her attention. She did not know where to begin, thinking about what to say first.
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15121716
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saw the world was a mess
I did nothing about it, poured myself some apple juice
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151200
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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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151200
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