1717 8 6
|
Your laugh used to startle the nurses.
|
1717198
|
A proper study of human history should
lead the student to an inescapable desire
to commit suicide
|
171722
|
...you should pick a VERY OLD millionaire. Very old, and NOT VERY WELL...
|
171711
|
|
171780
|
|
171711
|
The crowd- which consisted of exclusively men with beards and djembe drums and women with hairly legs poking out of corduroy patchwork skirts- cowered and crawled in fear around the angry man-bomb, mortally frightened yet encouraged to shimmy because the
|
171700
|
I'm subconsciously a sucker for guys who are no good for my
self-esteem. Or waistline.
|
171610
|
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
|
171620
|
I was ashamed of my conscience.
|
171665
|
So few dreams are the doors they seem.
|
171631
|
The TV projects from an insect arm. It has the face of my ex-husband, smiling and void. I like to set small fires and inhale them.
|
1716126
|
In the summer that my mother returned from wherever she had gone after her divorce, she and I moved to a large, old farmhouse high on a hill, far from the town where I had grown up. The farmhouse was over a hundred years old and no one had lived in it for…
|
171622
|
So it's me and two other girls...
|
1716104
|
A Parody of Keats I stood at silent thought upon a clump Of nettles, swaying in the od'rous air- That blew from my own trousers, by the dump; That it had not blown more lent me despair. The dulcet horn gave melody, rare…
|
171694
|
I It's been there all week, Nose tucked into tail Comfort found between impact and asphalt II I'm still here logged out, still here Had it with the billboards the check engine light milemarkers... Just…
|
171594
|
Once upon a time there was a Vietnamese restaurant. And then there were two, and four, and eight...
|
171574
|
There is a rock somewhere with the truth of the sky in it, the glitter of otherworldly charms that falsify the ugliness of the literal.
|
1715172
|
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…
|
171545
|
The last time Cyrus rode in a train’s passenger car, he came home a dead man.
|
17151911
|
served as it is/
among these friends.
The frayed filaments/
tickle my chin and irritate my nostrils,
|
1715149
|
Each day, they trot the coiffed/
and painted cadavers across the stage.
|
171530
|
white-gray mounds persist
|
171541
|
A tanka/haiku poem about grandma getting run over by a reindeer.
|
171520
|
From somewhere beneath the train, steam rose, which was—of course—puzzling as the train was powered by electricity. The steam condensed on the windows of the cars, making tears streak across the surface. Perhaps that was why the woman’s cheeks were shinin
|
171521
|
Last night Jim taught me how to catch forks. Meaning, he taught me how to throw them. But he called it catching forks. It was late, and we were low down 3rd street, south of the Bay Bridge, the baseball stadium, all the people and cars, on top of a warehouse. There were a…
|
171496
|
It hangs unspoken in the sadness he pushes through his harmonica, while his hands work the old, beat-up guitar that tries to be a Gibson for his fingertips.
|
171400
|
Her fever spreads through lines of a plaid mini, over burnt milk, darkened to yellow. Fingers explore fabric folds up and into the lost dimensions of logic.
|
171442
|
|
171487
|
It doesn't take a genius to figure how he sank, in the drink, like Jeff Buckley. Like a stone.
|
171497
|
|
