1482 6 6
|
israeli flares light gaza/ casting incandescent nudity/ upon jumbled puzzle piece buildings.
|
148200
|
At street level there is a small arrow on which is printed “Museum of Numbers” that points up a long narrow staircase. There is a restaurant on the first floor. All the way up the stairs, the air is permeated with smell of fried foods
|
148211
|
The crowd- which consisted of exclusively men with beards and djembe drums and women with hairly legs poking out of corduroy patchwork skirts- cowered and crawled in fear around the angry man-bomb, mortally frightened yet encouraged to shimmy because the
|
148266
|
The day came shyly up to me like a rolling orange thing. Perhaps of alien origin, but not if the Buddha of our foolish hopeless dreamer inside has anything to say about it. It said, pick me up. I did. It looked like forever on the inviting horizon with trees as…
|
1482109
|
Cinema Verite’ is the best book of poems I have encountered since Matthea Harvey’s Modern Life
|
148296
|
Everyone loves a story of love
unrequited.
But what about the stories
of the unrequited lovee?
|
148222
|
There’s a crack in the cosmos,
and pink is leaking through.
There’s a crack in the cosmos,
fix the sink, the toilet leak.
There are many cracks in the cosmos,
numerous. This is how time escapes.
Good grief, they’re going to suck the cream
|
148143
|
Except for the bathroom stalls—you know the one that goes “Here I sit all broken-hearted”—the only poetry in the house is composed by Hazel, recited to her fawning sycophants.
|
148100
|
It was like Azure was dictating the tempo of a song. Fluid in motion, and a story told.
|
148196
|
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').
|
148133
|
That’s true, you know, what they said about the drummer and spontaneous combustion.
|
148100
|
“Do we really want to treat her? Is she even really sick, or does she live in a country as real as ours, but one we can never visit?”
|
148156
|
Just like D-Ray White’s tapping still bounces off the mountains if the right person is listening, Hasil’s hoots and howls are trapped in record wax like a blood-drunk mosquito in amber.
|
1481107
|
|
148144
|
I try to enjoy my bookbut the mannequins keep tapping at the windowWhen I look up they vanish Outsidefibreglass clouds are kept in placeby invisible wires——Sometimes the mannequins …
|
148160
|
|
148154
|
I said, “That bird is hungry.”
The sparrow was eying both of us
At our separate outside café tables
As it hopped around looking for crumbs.
Then it would look up at us
Expectantly.
|
1481158
|
What's that snitch doin' here?
|
148155
|
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…
|
148140
|
"Dennis," she started "exactly what the fuck are you looking at?"
"Your tits" I replied.
|
148163
|
“I'm thinking about math class,” she said. “The solution to three factorial.”
“Easy,” Leo said.
|
14811714
|
It shouldn’t take that long to count/
to six but when the six are cats, arithmetic/
assumes Heisenbergian properties/
as the objects counted defy the count.
|
14811212
|
I picked out a book to read on the airplane. The title was The Function of the Orgasm by Wilhelm Reich.
|
148121
|
They had a deal, she reminded him. If he didn’t want to wear a condom all the time, he’d have to help with her birth control.
|
148154
|
...listening to the ache of errs our mouths had become.
|
148185
|
collars of obedience /
discarded in the pyre /
with draft cards and bras
|
1480125
|
the memories return like they do every year at this time
|
148011
|
Somewhere, a mathematician is going mad in a box that decreases in size at the same speed it takes the mathematician to find a way to get out. At least he’ll die with an epiphany, which is more than we can say for you.
|
148011
|
Barbie wore only her clear pink heels...
|
148000
|
...the fatal bleeding-out of the love receptors. They call it “Juliet's Tears.”
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