1483 4 2
|
Sparky took to me immediately. In some atavistic canine way he knew I was simpatico to a dog like him.
|
1483136
|
She’s changed leaves to emeralds. Worn a shawl of inked birds’ wings.
|
148331
|
It was cloudy, the way he liked it -- no baking in the sun. People passed occasionally. He sniffed at the joggers, “Health Nuts,” he dubbed them. He hadn’t exercised since his last high school gym class.
|
148310
|
Floating along the ebbs of the ocean,toward the horizon, where time has no say,an end that will never be reached.
|
14831112
|
Regrets lined behind him like crossties on a railroad track.
|
148266
|
“When I was six years old, Dad came home from Vietnam and picked me and Mama up from her sister's house in Boston. We packed a U-Haul with everything we owned from T.V. to toothbrush. Dad hitched the trailer to the Rambler and drove us South, back home to Carolina. A…
|
148255
|
beat them with fists and purses.
|
14821411
|
I dream of benzene rings/
and polymer shrouds
|
1482172
|
You can tend to recognise the difference between a good and mediocre mind by observing how each reacts to a misfired original idea.The mediocre mind will praise the merely meretricious, but ignore the more interesting bad art. The higher mind will value the misfired…
|
148276
|
you might as well be blind
|
148295
|
I fully intend to show Hamilton the delights of soft Oriental carpeting and a delicious new position I learned not long ago. It involves a silk scarf, a leather strap and some aromatic herbs.
|
148242
|
It's 6:45 a.m. A gritty, mundane sort of magic pervades the air at "Valentine’s" in the Hamilton Hotel.
|
1482125
|
I walked along the beach today, and there I saw them all; including the latest lost: little Tiven, Tommy, Michaela & my Paul. Grandma painted at her easel, set upon the dune. Uncle Eddie bent in half, laughing like a loon, Oliver growled…
|
1482118
|
None of this is real, he says, and the path slopes down to a house that is possibly haunted. One always looks in such windows, one cannot not look at the predictable detritus of another's failure, a queer satisfaction, a fairy's dust. But no, not real, none of it. And…
|
148263
|
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.
|
148242
|
|
148233
|
Her body: normal as a body, a baby’s body: skin and eyes.
|
148261
|
I was quite alone in this small room with the tarp and the dying fire.
|
14821910
|
Falling//
is something that comes quite naturally/
to puffed up things. Like the soufflé
|
148262
|
Chubby. Plump. Pudgy. Portly. Bulky. Buxom. Rotund. Ample. Hefty. Corpulent. Zaftig.
|
148111
|
It’s last call for the Class of 2001, their five-year reunion drawing to a close, and Brenner, in his standard t-shirt and holey jeans, has just arrived.
|
148111
|
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.
|
148100
|
“Would you look at that one!” my father said.
“Who did she know?” my mother asked.
“Who did she blow?” my father said loudly, and burst out laughing. I laughed too, although I didn't know why.
My mother shot him one
|
148184
|
We brought oxygen with us because we knew, everyone knows, there is no air on Mars. Everyone told us this as they waved goodbye back on Earth. Jay's mom even said, “Goodbye, honey, have a nice time and remember, there's no air on Mars. Are you aware of that?”…
|
148174
|
we're not at war / with the world. We have papers.
|
148120
|
A shot in the dark and everything goes black. It's as if the story never happened.
|
148197
|
awfully evil decisions upstairs in your head that could come back to haunt you in your later years;I'm here to report your zooming about hair isn't really one of them. You have found the infernal wheel works in all four directions at once. Good for you.…
|
148132
|
|
148195
|
A spire
that had stood one hundred and forty years
fell in
a single second of the blackest day.
|
148133
|
It is only seven-thirty but the night is full, gloom seizing Highway 66. There is a carcass on the road, maybe a human, slumped next to an empty ice cream truck. Several stars hang up in the East, drunken constellations scrambling to find meaning.
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