1622 6 5
|
So few dreams are the doors they seem.
|
1622910
|
it's time for the cold, antiseptic
cloth to briskly remove the evidence.
|
162243
|
“I want you to know that you are being watched,” Ernie said. “I have trained a camera on your work station.”
|
1622119
|
Whenever you act as if you're one of themit makes perfectly sad sense tome; you are one of them; we're supposed to believe there areno shadows in that particular choice? When you areone of them, they say youfall asleep with a peaceful droopinglip to your smile. When…
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162243
|
I fear osiris with his feather rising to meet the raven in mid-air they will turn to look at me decide if I go through the door of no return into fierce landscape on my knees I will crumple into the foetal…
|
162291
|
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.
|
16221212
|
a poem about things exploding/burning down/scattering for miles.
|
162288
|
that doesn't need any words to arrive fully formed, or too many words to be believed in at all I should say, a little something we can simply send back and forth across your time and my space without having to talk at length about it, but being a …
|
162263
|
The poet said, ‘I feel the fell of dark, not day.” but day it always is. Bright! Bright!
the city claims its blue salutes; its stopping in mid-sentence at a name where fingers roam a stone.
|
1622118
|
I was sleeping the night of a hurricane party. I awoke to lightning flashes. They lit the undersides of descending clouds, and lit the shadows of scattering dancers. The hurricane must have turned inland.
|
162263
|
“I'm thinking about math class,” she said. “The solution to three factorial.”
“Easy,” Leo said.
|
162266
|
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…
|
162256
|
It's tough when muscle gets in the way of memory. The way pain is the only thing I can remember about certain things. Fifth grade, that's what I think of. I think of pain. Not just abstract pain, not some we'll get to it later adolescent angst or ennui.…
|
16211914
|
Before she flushes the toilet the world is spinning.
|
162143
|
Unconsciously she shook her head at her own weakness in coming out to see Wayne when things were in shambles at home. Guilt had beat resolve in the cosmic game of rock paper scissors.
|
1621108
|
no more trying to keep / the peace, no more trying / to keep every person happy. / Just this: no more.
|
162111
|
Puddles—not his real name, as you’ve probably gathered, but the kind of nickname a fat kid got tagged with in our neighborhood—kept stopping short, picking underwear out of his ass or taking a breather. This had the unfortunate byproduct of my crashing in
|
162100
|
"You've fallen out of love with me, is that it? That you'll leave me for another girl, who has bigger boobs and fucks you better than I do."
|
162198
|
It is true that the college dogs spread vermin, reeked and shat on the soccer field...
|
1621138
|
|
162133
|
By February, I had decided,
That you'd tear out my throat every morning
if it meant your favorite song would play from my neck.
|
162174
|
I don’t want to debate polemics while I’m sweaty and naked. I just want my hair cut.
|
162100
|
I had enough judgment, anger and vengefulness from the people around me in the steel town of Pueblo, Colorado, where I was growing up. I didn’t need more from my God.
|
162142
|
Something was changing.
We could sense it in the circling air. A loss of stillness - and we'd been still for so long.
|
162121
|
My wife storms into the kitchen with a pink mako shark slung over her shoulder, barking "Dinner!" towards me as I sit on the counter swishing my middle finger through a bowl of sand.
|
162066
|
some answers are enough to make you cry or laugh yourself to death
|
162070
|
I heard this story from my grandmother who heard it from her grandmother who heard it from an uncle, who was a monkey.
|
162011
|
A procession of our somber youth—
stoned and stunned and
broken beyond repair—viewed
the boy carved of putty.
The mortician painted him
stuffed him, presented him
to us, the semi-living.
|
162063
|
"...easier to get milk from a male tiger than mercy from him."
|
162076
|
I pay for 3 Trump Troll Dolls and a package red licorice twizzlers and head back toward the door. Dancing Gnome Girl is there to greet me. I stick a twizzler in the teeth of the donation pail.
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