1628 0 0
|
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.
|
1628175
|
I'm old enough to be her father.
|
162843
|
I'd never seen a dead person before, let alone one that was living just
seconds earlier.
|
1628116
|
A pinprick breaks the black/
and pins the spin of constellations/
around its still point.
|
162831
|
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.
|
162875
|
I got a sixth of a cow in the freezer
That’s not meant to be just a teaser
I guess all I’m sayin’
Come on home and you’ll be stayin’
Cause I got a sixth of a cow in the freezer
Got a rack and a half of ribs
I ain’t tellin’ you no fibs
|
16281211
|
The cataclysm of all those photons/
mad to be a part of you
|
162810
|
Even when the sun is gone and things get dark, usually the moon comes to reflect some light of hope until a new dawn can emerge
|
1628137
|
Can we survive our Y chromosome?
|
162880
|
|
162877
|
You've been given some really cruel thoughts that are not your own.You've been given some really stupid sets of rules which are impossibleto follow. You can learn to manage for yourself. Remember who youwere before they told you who you were. You've been trainedsince birth…
|
162899
|
|
162854
|
...listening to the ache of errs our mouths had become.
|
162801
|
She overcomes herself on the day of the spectacle, clown paint, unmoving amid a rumble of trains and screens, video logs and snapshots, live blogs from phones wet with lotion. This is Tokyo. Facial masks. Bare flaking paint in streams. Stardust.
|
162862
|
Sometimes one person's shelter is another person's storm.
|
162823
|
["Mea Culpa" means: I don't care what you think, sorry is when I feel like making you hear me say it.]
|
162700
|
|
1627118
|
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…
|
162742
|
I feel about the universe/
as Abrahamics are supposed/
to feel about their Yahweh, /their God,
and their Allah:/ I am in fear,
I am in awe, /I am in love.
|
162755
|
It is said that lovers find lips in the dark through secret brain circuitry.
|
162754
|
We were wild, medieval magpies,
sweaty and sweet and selfish; and so much more
than we were before I lit that first stick of spice,
|
1627127
|
Essences of bull and bison,//
stag and horse, illuminate/
the stony underground.
|
162721
|
He finished the omelet and started in on the short stack. He drowned the cakes in syrup.
-Never can have enough syrup.
|
162786
|
in late fall, Rome, sans wind, sans rancor,
sans sand or rain, sans hate ...
|
162632
|
I remember when I first came to California, I heard a mockingbird sitting in a tree, calling out in the names of other birds. It was down in L.A. I was staying at my brother's house in San Gabriel and driving in every day to the campus at UCLA to go to s
|
162645
|
the beeps, rhythmic,
tell us that you're still with us
|
162600
|
“There goes that slut Kerri Stanton,” the immense woman behind the counter chuckled to her patron. “Who the hell does she think she is?”
|
162600
|
“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.
|
162600
|
Jaume jumped up from the bar, a wide smile across his face. He hugged his old friend and planted a kiss on his wife's cheeks. He was buzzing from the chance encounter, marveling how life had brought them together after all these years. There had to be a r
|
162687
|
graves left or graves lost, into silence death sinks:/it's leaving the living that leaves us such pain.
|
