1607 12 7
|
Foolish boy, you chose
your parents poorly-
|
16061914
|
Before she flushes the toilet the world is spinning.
|
160611
|
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.
|
160676
|
The pristine Hudson's/waters dance in the dark of/the East River's rinse.
|
160674
|
He calls it an owl glass: he’s allowed: he’s six.
|
160663
|
“I mean it, Hanna. I don't want you to.” But his leg felt carved away where her head had lain. One stupid thing jostling another for attention. He was afraid that if she touched him again, he'd have her on the ground.
|
160643
|
Shadows from a star
Never too close
Never too far
|
160663
|
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.
|
160641
|
"What does it say about our political process when I could pick students at random out of any of my classes who would do better than the actual candidates. That scares me. What’s happening to people? How did we get here?”
|
160682
|
Mom wraps a bulky-knit scarf around my face and over my mouth. She tightens it into a big knot in back of my collar.
|
160666
|
israeli flares light gaza/ casting incandescent nudity/ upon jumbled puzzle piece buildings.
|
160622
|
Not to sound too ridiculous, but Hurt was giving me the hurt, and it felt good.
|
160655
|
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…
|
160631
|
I went to a drum circle next night under the full moon in May, scotch broom and lilacs blooming. One does not inhale such aphrodisiacs without losing one’s balance. There were children of druids and pagans and stregas from lands over the sea, lands beyo
|
160632
|
The night we broke into Bron-yr-Aur it was too cold to make love. I said I wasn't horny anyway. You put your hand on my forehead: Are you ill?
|
160696
|
Everyone loves a story of love
unrequited.
But what about the stories
of the unrequited lovee?
|
160511
|
Once upon a time in the days of old
There lived a poor tailor who- I am told-
Did brag that his daughter
Spun straw into gold!
|
160500
|
“A shibboleth is a test—a way to separate da wheat from da chaff that's as old as the Bible, but as new as the latest trend in men's fashions,” Gus says.
|
16051612
|
A little poem about prison
|
160582
|
13 rooks on a lifeless tree
|
1605175
|
I'm old enough to be her father.
|
160576
|
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.
|
160598
|
When our kids were very young, my wife and I believed it was important to give our children traditions that they could grow up with. One such tradition that we shared each Thanksgiving was to walk down by the cliffs along the ocean. We'd all go, our kids…
|
160577
|
The whole thing is broken. It's like an egg. I'm not saying this to get you to say something else in the sunny opposite direction of the tattooed scar upon my painted backyard scene. I don't really care. It's only on me. Not on you. I'm glad as…
|
160511
|
When we started plans for the party, none of us wanted Larry to die, most of all Larry himself.
Actually, when we first started plans for the party, Larry wasn’t dying.
|
160462
|
Eddie meets Sarah Packard, a “college girl” played by Piper Laurie. She walks with a limp, a fact Eddie doesn’t notice at first because she’s sitting down at a diner table in a bus station. She’s alcoholic and writes poetry.
|
160498
|
It is true that the college dogs spread vermin, reeked and shat on the soccer field...
|
160421
|
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.
|
160400
|
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.
|
160474
|
Food is silly. Eating is silly. Yet the camaraderie of sharing a table is not silly. It is sacred. It becomes silly when the jello arrives.
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