1722 8 6
|
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.
|
172297
|
I remember meeting you many years later.
|
172245
|
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.
|
172275
|
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
|
1722148
|
Yes, he'll be quiet. Very quiet. He rocks himself, the ark, suddenly imagining water underneath him, over head, all around. Water, water, water—
|
1721147
|
like the dome of an immense lamp
like blades of grass at the sweep of the scythe
like a line of cliffs against a tempestuous tide
|
172151
|
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…
|
17211916
|
severe snow storm coming. I'm looking for a parking spot and listening to Machito & Charlie Parker
|
172132
|
She never saw me pull the wings off live flies or throw wood lice in the fire just to see them shrivel, drown a beetle in a stream of warm pee.
|
172143
|
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.
|
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
|
17212011
|
The nearsighted world/
puts on its lenses
|
172177
|
fuck you Charles Bukowski
go cry in your eggs in a Jersey diner
|
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…
|
172063
|
Morning's first blush, their world in repose. Sated, drained, spent; …
|
172021
|
Ug seemed kinda down in the dumps so, uncharacteristically for a male hominid, I asked him why he looked so glum.
“Ug no find nice girl,” he said, poking a stick in the dirt.
|
1720104
|
I do this when I think of you. Today we took the first steps towards you're never here.
|
1720105
|
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…
|
172065
|
go ahead
stick one more morsel
into that piehole
|
1720128
|
fetal position can make a man seem small. harmless. like the child your womb won't carry...
|
172000
|
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.
|
172051
|
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.
|
1720126
|
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,…
|
172042
|
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…
|
172001
|
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.
|
17201211
|
|
17191911
|
Girl with glasses and
skinny fingers
playing with wires
|
171900
|
“There goes that slut Kerri Stanton,” the immense woman behind the counter chuckled to her patron. “Who the hell does she think she is?”
|
171963
|
i thirst always
for that poetic mouthful
|
