1690 0 0
|
I met Barry Hannah once in my life. I’d come to Oxford, MS, to meet an entirely different writer whom I thought then and think now very highly of. I’d also come to escape from another slew of regrets. Oxford is a great city to run away to.
|
1690 8 8
|
-Love is a rushing
of blood
|
1690 2 2
|
So it's me and two other girls...
|
1690 1 1
|
The bathing suits are like Christmas dresses.
|
1690 2 1
|
He repeated these six words like a prayer. His only confession.
|
1690 12 8
|
Trigger warning: casualties of war.
|
1690 10 4
|
Come, bring your sadness
to the precipice of my body,
bury it within me like a tool
|
1690 3 2
|
He asked me if I was going to buy Valentine's for the office this year, and I shook my head. We were in the dollar store, February 13, and I could get a box of twenty kids' Valentines with last year's favourite cartoon…
|
1689 1 0
|
He first saw her stepping off a water taxi by the Long Docks in the rain at night, her right arm atrophied from some early childhood disease, dangling like an apology, her other holding a cigarette. Her wet black hair hung past her shoulders and her eyes
|
1689 5 3
|
All I wanted to know was: Am I coming close? You could have given me a clue. How was I to know how deep the scar ran? I always thought scars were superficial, but I was young, and willing – what did I know?
What would they have done if they had come
|
1689 1 1
|
1. The sparrows' heads revolve slowly when you press the red button, but the boxing glove attachments don't work.2. A weird weaving of voices, unmusical harmony. One phrase punctures the texture: “The empty slot.”3. Poems are processed into more useful verbal…
|
1689 0 0
|
Over the stained fence the spectres flew and that is where the rain was turning colder and colder in the time when the trees had become mostly bare.
|
1689 13 8
|
I worry for the daffodils/
and there optimistic yellow bursts./
I worry for the over-eager clover,//
prodigious green on crepe myrtles,/
even for the early green of nut grass.
|
1689 2 2
|
He just had to tell somebody. Anybody.
So he called up his publisher, L., who agreed to meet him at Oliveira’s for a drink. It only took about ten minutes to walk there from his big duplex in the Elmwood, where he was still living with his wife among
|
1689 5 1
|
Two summers later, the ritual began. Carol left her house at midnight, having served her husband and daughter a heavy dinner that left them caged in their sleep. She was like a thief working in reverse: she rose from bed with her husband’s first snore,
|
1689 6 3
|
Another bird hits the large plate glass patio doors as I am sipping my morning coffee.
|
1689 7 0
|
[TURN-ONS: willingness. TURN-OFFS: rejection.]
|
1688 5 5
|
I keep my love for you in me, /
like the egg of a worm,
|
1688 6 5
|
One of the poems in my collection, One Day Tells its Tale to Another, published December 16, 2012. Available on Amazon. My first book!
|
1688 15 4
|
This cell the sole certainty,
all else steeped in mystery.
Why should we be here?
|
1688 7 5
|
If the Titanic rises from the bottom of the sea,
I will meet you on deck, in a deck chair.
Fully dressed for a change.
|
1688 17 16
|
saw the world was a mess
I did nothing about it, poured myself some apple juice
|
1688 18 11
|
For a few/
vivid weeks, deciduous shrubs and trees/
will seem to glow like flames and embers
|
1688 13 4
|
Jane says to Roy, “What are you doing, Roy?”“Fuck off, Jane, I'm reading,” says Roy.“Well you could have just said so.”“I did.”“I mean just without—”“Yeah, well fuck off anyway.”“I've had…
|
1688 2 2
|
...you should pick a VERY OLD millionaire. Very old, and NOT VERY WELL...
|
1688 7 4
|
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.
|
1688 5 2
|
Now they are sleeping in a poppy field, sun-drenched warm afternoon girls lying on their stomachs and sides, faces in flowers, and flowers blowing, blowing. If this afternoon were every afternoon, the world would be cured.
|
1688 6 5
|
In your mouth is the attic studio
Where your father’s brushes lie wet with water
|
1688 4 2
|
Something was changing.
We could sense it in the circling air. A loss of stillness - and we'd been still for so long.
|
1688 7 2
|
I must have been six years old at that time, but the events of…
|