1463 4 5
|
the beeps, rhythmic,
tell us that you're still with us
|
146376
|
I read it all wrong. In writing her novel, I thought Marilynne Robinson was writing about twins — writing, in some way, about me. Instead, these characters, Lucille and Ruthie, were standard sisters, one older than the other. In fact, Robinson explains th
|
146373
|
I did do one nice thing for you
|
146333
|
Trisha dreamed of being a Playboy Bunny since the days she still had buck-teeth and fried egg boobs. She blu-tacked page threes above her bed-head and had me snap topless Polaroids till they littered the floor. She told me to imagine she had 36DDs and per
|
146352
|
Jojo dolls & basketballs
a mindflex & pick-up sticks
Parcheesi and—no, not Parcheesi
a supersoaker, a Care Bear
|
146332
|
“Hi. I’m Rita Bates,” I had said. “Can I sit here?
The boy who introduced himself as Thomas told me I could, so I did, and his friends all introduced themselves in turn. Around the table there was Bev, Ernest, someone whose name started with an F – maybe
|
1463108
|
no more trying to keep / the peace, no more trying / to keep every person happy. / Just this: no more.
|
1463106
|
I enjoy launching words into space. Please dangle a moment here while I prepare the next sentence. Ok. You can come in now. Take boiling for instance. And hawsers. The sound of words on a sheet of paper. The manifesto for a roll of sleep. Sleep is oblivious to…
|
146343
|
“I want you to know that you are being watched,” Ernie said. “I have trained a camera on your work station.”
|
146373
|
Who ever saw an open upright pop bottle on the street?
|
146330
|
white-gray mounds persist
|
146311
|
Zorro lived in his mother’s basement until he could get back on his feet.
|
146343
|
I fear osiris with his feather rising to meet the raven in mid-air they will turn to look at me decide if I go through the door of no return into fierce landscape on my knees I will crumple into the foetal…
|
146300
|
The door shuts slowly to something that’s allegedly mine
and it sits there and waits until I come home
just like you.
|
146244
|
Moore doubted, perhaps, that readers could sympathize with a man who had killed someone for a cause or a girlfriend who forgave him. Perhaps she felt that maiming is (not) worse than murder. Perhaps she decided that the story should be about that.
|
146265
|
His looks were polished like his shoes, his hair as black. No one would have guessed he made his living as a thief.
|
146200
|
|
1462126
|
forced to submit/
to reasonableness//
and universal healthcare.
|
146295
|
My body feels chilly but it's not from the outside temps. It seems to me it's the opposite of a fever.
|
146210
|
If you work with the public, you're stressed. Unreasonable customers. Demanding bosses. Reduced staffing. I love my job, but the workload is tough and getting tougher. What can we do to keep our spirits up?Play Customer Appreciation! It's simple. Assign a point value…
|
146233
|
his mother brought him to me/ when he was very young/ maybe a few months old,/ born in arizona july.
|
1462116
|
I write poems as if language matters.
|
14622311
|
Every Monday you brought your Sunday finest to the bus stop...
|
14621211
|
The cataclysm of all those photons/
mad to be a part of you
|
146200
|
Over the stained fence the spectres flew and that is where the rain was turning colder and colder in the time when the trees had become mostly bare.
|
146201
|
I followed the curve of the etched Koi, its filigree scales arcing across a taut midriff toward the indent of her pierced navel, where a collection of water lilies drifted on the surface of her skin.
|
146297
|
Even word dancers need rest.
|
1462119
|
skin cancer
walks along Zuma beach
at noon
|
146252
|
I’ve just moved to New York City and, somehow, Scarlett Johansson is at the same party I’m at.
|
146200
|
My gaze could have gutted any man. Any man, but John Marcy. History would write that John Marcy was a traitor to his country. Public enemy number one in the state of New York. When that probably couldn’t be farther from the truth.
|
