1594 12 5
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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…
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15941811
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For a few/
vivid weeks, deciduous shrubs and trees/
will seem to glow like flames and embers
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159465
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I wake up on the edge of the mattress, teetering. The dog is looking at me funny.
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159430
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His mother named him Far because she had high hopes for him
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159477
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They blew in the doorway of the café at the French Hotel like two sparrows chasing each other. Their wings down in the dust, unheeding any danger in their hunger for each other. I knew the man who was about to become her husband, so maybe this was her las
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159431
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The old man sat in the run-down shack, nursing his lobol-weed tea, and cursing the bitter cold wind outside.
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159321
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“They say she lives alone out there.” “What, like out in the woods?” “Not like way back in a cabin or anything, but in a little house out there off the road. I'm not even sure she has a car.” “What, does she…
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1593115
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If I felt like reading a book
then I would read a book
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1593146
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She drinks a chocolate martini. I fold myself up and slide into her pocket.
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1593127
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In time, I will forgethow he said "smooshie" for "smoothie"and "eyebrowns" for "eyebrows,"how his upper lip dimpled when he laughedin that uproarious, wild toddler way.How he wheedled to be wrapped and rocked,after a bath, even at age five,his long calves uncovered by…
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159363
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Morning's first blush, their world in repose. Sated, drained, spent; …
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159365
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I reach into my pocket for my keys and discover the cough drops Iput there a week ago have melted. Now my fingers are sticky. And I don’t have my keys.
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159300
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When we talked about the lasagna, we were, I see now, talking about different things. I.e., I was talking about lasagna, and you were talking about almost everything but. You weren't talking about the dry, burnt noodles or…
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159311
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Roanne hungered. Memory had ruled her forever. Shards really, edged like machetes: daddy, whose fingers had eyes in the dark. Momma, ensconced in the shadows. Inside the church, those pairs of short…
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159388
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-Love is a rushing
of blood
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159320
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Vegas is turning out to be my kind of town. Easy money, free booze, and everyone is too overstimulated to realize I’m broadcasting right into their noggins.
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159386
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My wife tells me/your dog has vomited/
on the carpet AGAIN!
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1593128
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fetal position can make a man seem small. harmless. like the child your womb won't carry...
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159322
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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
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1593127
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Essences of bull and bison,//
stag and horse, illuminate/
the stony underground.
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159343
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The songs that she used to sing to him still dance in his head while he wrangles equations. The stars in the cosmos spell out her name.
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159377
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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…
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159322
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He began life as we all do, an almost indeterminate blob. Ultrasound sonar plotting his outline on screen. The echo chambers of his beating heart dispelling the ectoplasmic impression of mere ghostly existence. His rudimentary …
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159361
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I was quite alone in this small room with the tarp and the dying fire.
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159371
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My mother was Irish as Paddy's pig. So all her family. Lovely people they were. Also, seldom seen among the Folk; stone cold sober. My father's family; Bavarian German. Bavaria's the wrong side of the German tracks. Frankfort people laugh at Bavarians as people in…
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1593116
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The days cut off by damp chill with every thought a different variety of protection.
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1593136
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159342
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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.
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159243
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Except for the bathroom stalls—you know the one that goes “Here I sit all broken-hearted”—the only poetry in the house is composed by Hazel, recited to her fawning sycophants.
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159274
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I wonder how many crumbs
he can drop to make a cookie,
whole, so I can relax a little
and throw out the self help books
about how I'm not right in
the motherfucking head,
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