1522 10 9
|
Cinema Verite’ is the best book of poems I have encountered since Matthea Harvey’s Modern Life
|
152254
|
When we were young and small we played in the orchard. Mom made apple pies and fried apples, caramel apples and apple sauce, apple cider. Grandma’s apple butter recipe.
|
1522910
|
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…
|
152264
|
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.
|
152121
|
“They say she lives alone out there.” “What, like out in the woods?” “Not like way back in a cabin or anything, but in a little house out there off the road. I'm not even sure she has a car.” “What, does she…
|
152194
|
don't look at me honey, I fell on the table,
my hair is on fire, my heart is unstable
|
152133
|
That’s true, you know, what they said about the drummer and spontaneous combustion.
|
152131
|
|
152164
|
"...innocent butterflies of pollution
trapped and entangled,"
|
1521158
|
What's that snitch doin' here?
|
152151
|
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.
|
152151
|
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…
|
152131
|
I’m secretly hoping for a huge bouquet, a fruit basket, a pickle jar of urine in a lunch bag on my doorstep, even.
|
152094
|
Once upon a time there was a Vietnamese restaurant. And then there were two, and four, and eight...
|
1520115
|
If I felt like reading a book
then I would read a book
|
152052
|
Send me a secret story in a song just for me
|
152012
|
An yet we are all inmates...
|
152063
|
Let’s say you know so little about me. Like whose idea of a joke to name me Hideo for excellent male. Or why I hang out at triangle Park, ogling expatriates or crusty punks.
|
152066
|
israeli flares light gaza/ casting incandescent nudity/ upon jumbled puzzle piece buildings.
|
152022
|
...you should pick a VERY OLD millionaire. Very old, and NOT VERY WELL...
|
152020
|
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.
|
152011
|
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
|
15201614
|
They are all sleeping, but I know better. I will keep watch and if he comes tonight I will be alert and ready. When he arrives he'll see the slack mouths, the graceless sprawls, hear the grunts, snorts and snores of the other women and then he'll sense me. My eyes will…
|
15191612
|
A little poem about prison
|
151900
|
The tiger-eye beads around her neck would wink at me like a nervous uncle sharing a secret with a child. They roll on her sternum like marbles. At night, on her nightstand, they whisper my secret to the patchouli-scented room. How long have they known?
|
151900
|
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…
|
151954
|
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?
|
151985
|
“Hey, Buddy,” he says finally, “you were supposed to make a right back there”, and I can see his eyes flash as he reads my ID card on the dash...
|
151965
|
The clarinet and the accordion are brothers, I see. Big, fat men with curly, klezmer hair.
|
151931
|
|
