1477 13 6
|
|
1477127
|
Foolish boy, you chose
your parents poorly-
|
147732
|
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?
|
147734
|
Carl’s peculiarity of toilet paper rolls is not covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act – he’s looked it up.
|
1477106
|
The trees would answer with a creak and a crackle.
Fall was near, a rotten apple.
|
147742
|
Had this been a film, I’d have seen you at once. Extreme close-up: my finger on the green button that opens the door to the park. Long shot: my leaving my bike at the entrance. Slow shot: my walking down the narrow stone path.
|
147655
|
I guess you’re gone now
That’s okay
I guess I can live with my own ghosts
I had no idea
What it meant
But now I do
It meant I was standing
At the end of everything
And did not know it
|
1476178
|
When I was young and self-born in religion my aunts, uninterested in being washed in the Blood of Christ, called me Preacher Boy. I didn't pay them any attention. It was fine by me, I said, if they wanted to sit around and paint their toenails . . .
|
147663
|
Morning's first blush, their world in repose. Sated, drained, spent; …
|
147610
|
“It is not your shoes the Americans complained about!” Roberto yelled, sitting behind his desk, cigar smoke curling around his purple face. “It is your UNDERWEAR!”
|
147677
|
We are/no more than heartbeats on repeat.
|
147653
|
We sat in silence, the entire train, the few other passengers in anxious wait to see if I would change my mind. We all flipped pages, glanced up at each other, looked away when noticed.
|
1476133
|
—It’s difficult to say, he said. I have mood swings. Women don’t like that. They become upset.
|
14761212
|
a poem about things exploding/burning down/scattering for miles.
|
147600
|
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.
|
147642
|
THE man in the tent with the stick points to the chart on the wall and says to us all: the stats point to the end of the war by the end of the fall. A just war, not just oil. Just then Allah's shadow comes over the scene. He's here to stiffen his troops with some …
|
147633
|
A small bar of glycerin soap floated in the sink full of bloody water . . .
|
147665
|
It's just another night in the old city, perched in the skeletal radio tower with my collection of telescopes
|
147697
|
MOSAIC Your eyes coal-rimmed, busted, burned by betrayal. You and I, knee to knuckle, skinny with disorders and blurred around our edges. Challenged by our experience and the ash of past-love dusting the grate, the state, the…
|
1475107
|
|
147520
|
On the plains there are no cliffs, no vast mountain ranges to persuade us that we were somewhere above the world. Yearning to escape the pull of the Earth was the big dream of a plains boy…
|
147562
|
|
147576
|
Regime is elected officials ignoring constituents, ignoring protestors, ignoring history
|
147500
|
Tadd Dameron once described himself as “the most misplaced musician in the business,” and one needn’t call the missing persons bureau to determine that he may have been right.
|
1475105
|
Walter met Danial at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. They didn't have much in common at first, other than AA, with Walter on the recovery side of treatment and Danial reluctantly just beginning.
|
147586
|
I haven’t read many of them, these poets
that they speak of – Whitman and his Leaves
Of Grass, Mary Oliver and her wild life
|
14751410
|
In those years,
you and I were told to leap
for a world suffused with sound
and industry.
|
147521
|
The story itself is not much longer than a snippet. What is a snippet anyway?
|
147500
|
Home is where my parents live and my relatives visit.
|
147564
|
Harpo was there with his wife. Harpo’s girlfriend came up behind the couch where I was sitting, and I ran my hand up her leg underneath her dress.
|
