1484 9 5
|
I fear my personal information travels the World Wide Web/
and mad Ukrainians will steal my name and wealth./
I fear the fiscal cliff and raising the ceiling on national debt./
I fear a death by taxes.
|
148413
|
After he got on one knee, and she said, I do. After they watched the televised bombs disappear the city. After everyone fell asleep. After shock and awe, him and her making love…
|
148421
|
...She smells like Mentholadium all the time which is one of them old lady smells. When I get up there, she says, “I’ll scrub the bee jesus out of you little girl,” and by God, I have a purty good bath that day.
|
148483
|
"I would like my pictures to look as if a human being had passed between them, like a snail, leaving a trail of the human presence, memory trace of past events, as the snail leaves its slime." Francis bacon “Feminine …
|
14841711
|
maybe a day in deep winter
|
148486
|
in late fall, Rome, sans wind, sans rancor,
sans sand or rain, sans hate ...
|
1484119
|
skin cancer
walks along Zuma beach
at noon
|
148463
|
The Assistant is lost again in a grid city. Again she feels disconnected from the world. Where she is the sound has been switched off.
|
148477
|
I spent most of those days in my car. Stashed in the trunk was a cache of precious stones, neatly sorted and separated, bound in smooth black velvet inside a smooth black briefcase.
|
148377
|
As spilled on a sandy Corona del Mar beach/both in moonlight and starlight so lovely/and strangely sad as if receding still
|
148374
|
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,
|
148300
|
“There goes that slut Kerri Stanton,” the immense woman behind the counter chuckled to her patron. “Who the hell does she think she is?”
|
148351
|
Because he tells her to, she puts on a vintage Easter dress one size too small and sprawls in a circle of light on the dusty floor...
|
148311
|
Margie sprayed the gift with her most expensive perfume and tucked it into her sweater’s front pocket. This way she could hold it close to her on the subway, so no one would see the pretty wrapping and try to snatch it from her
|
148376
|
I pay for 3 Trump Troll Dolls and a package red licorice twizzlers and head back toward the door. Dancing Gnome Girl is there to greet me. I stick a twizzler in the teeth of the donation pail.
|
148392
|
She liked talking to him, even now, when they’d spent three years talking. She thought about other conversations with other men at other bars, some of the bars on the water and some of them tucked behind shopping centers or off of different h
|
148375
|
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
|
148366
|
some days are
minotaur shit on your tongue/
smokestacks dumping acid rain on your already thinning hair
your eyelashes pinned in upside down, backward/you give wrong shaving directions to the mirror
|
148342
|
Charles the Bold is holding a pen.
|
148373
|
Who ever saw an open upright pop bottle on the street?
|
14832312
|
We know them just enough/
to recognize them when we find them.
|
1483137
|
Can we survive our Y chromosome?
|
148343
|
Many years ago I visited a nude beach. I undressed at the car and walked with my companions onto a California beach as naked as the day we were born.
|
148311
|
“We know you’re in there, motherfucker. Step out, slowly, and we might keep you fit for an open casket funeral."
|
148243
|
The print is not ideal, it's true.
|
148211
|
1. Poor grammar does not sleep. 2. We'll never finish every idea we have. 3. No matter how hard you try, you still might make it into my book
|
148232
|
I cut myself. Often. The bloodslice like thin lips parted/in prayer.
life’s color drained to ashen/as the old world spins, pirouettes/like a circus dog on the back/of a galloping horse.
|
148231
|
Fat robins are chirping –
loudly – at 4 a.m.
They’re trying to delude
the worms into thinking it’s
dawn already
The worms get up underground
They’re grumpy, they
bump into things
They come up to the surface
and Wham! That
|
148243
|
. . . the empiricism of the mechanical had wound tight into her, lessons her few calendars could never impart without aid from sundials, hourglasses, clocks.
|
148244
|
My father's cousin is Salem the Dead.
Famed, an infant Lazarus of Libya,
he was brought lifeless from the womb,
yet awoke to the chill of a mortuary slab.
|
