1734 7 5
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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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173499
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173364
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We became The World Famous Shadow Puppet Theater because we thought that the best way to become world famous was to act as though we already were.
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173396
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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').
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173340
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That Loving Feeling
How do I love thee?
I love the bulge
of your breast
along the inside
of my upper arm
when you lie on top
kissing me
I love
feeling the movement
of your nipple
along the tender skin
there
It
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173365
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She stood there with her back to me and her dress around her ankles.
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173343
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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.
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173394
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We shot out the windows of an abandoned building nearby so as to trick them into thinking we’d had snipers stationed in that building.
They shot at the abandoned building.
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173333
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eleven o'clock spills
despair all over
our bedspread
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173342
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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…
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173397
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a girl with wolves, dogs and a bear
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173360
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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
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1733117
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No bustling inside
No extruded amber
Wings onyx straight jackets
A low hum of displeasure.
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1732127
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In time, I will forgethow he said "smooshie" for "smoothie"and "eyebrowns" for "eyebrows,"how his upper lip dimpled when he laughedin that uproarious, wild toddler way.How he wheedled to be wrapped and rocked,after a bath, even at age five,his long calves uncovered by…
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173200
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Alysia raised the staff over the huddle and together everyone created a barrier. The wind blew past them and the grey mist surrounded them.
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173276
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The pristine Hudson's/waters dance in the dark of/the East River's rinse.
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17322312
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The skin will stay but you won’t see it,/
camouflaged by creases, tags, and curious/
deposits of renegade fat and pigment.
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1732109
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Polylinguists lash me
with tongues I cannot conjugate
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173282
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13 rooks on a lifeless tree
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173265
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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,…
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173283
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the sound of ashes/ being poured in the kitchen
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1732126
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Defy the impulse to grow beyond/
your means and the means of the/
place where you lie at night.
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173200
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Over the stained fence the spectres flew and that is where the rain was turning colder and colder in the time when the trees had become mostly bare.
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173291
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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.
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173277
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fuck you Charles Bukowski
go cry in your eggs in a Jersey diner
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173245
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. . . 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.
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173200
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If they don’t cover consequences in your gifted and talented program, you may care to research it.
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173252
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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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173211
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On an overcast and humid day in August, Jesus—with Dad’s permission, of course—decided to make his grand return.
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