1462 12 11
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The cataclysm of all those photons/
mad to be a part of you
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146284
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You don't want to knowthe details of my lifethe gossipthe boring moments strung togetheracross the lap ofmy sense of responsibilityit drives methrough the daysdoing this and thatchore, check on the listi am tired and need to stop for a drinkand then, i am filled up for a…
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146297
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Even word dancers need rest.
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14621312
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Today I'm feeling fertilized by an egg—
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1462102
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And I don't know how long it will be until she comes outside and figures it all out.
Figures me out.
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146263
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—Frank, how is your sex life?
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1462119
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skin cancer
walks along Zuma beach
at noon
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146200
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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.
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146143
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The print is not ideal, it's true.
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146143
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Last night, in a tavern called Wits End, we dropped quarters into a console, sized and shaped like an old TV.
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146100
|
Dreams will show you a life that might or might not be yours, but you better believe that they've got to serve when you're asked to come up with a story."--Frank Baron, the night he made bail and left town1. First Blood in Dreams Long Ago The…
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146133
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From this distance, he reminded me of a sleazy pink flamingo, waiting for feeding time at the zoo to deepen the timbre of his feathers and hint at the promise of a narcotic aviation before his commune of hens.
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146155
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another way to play with all that is that doesn't involve killing for profit. I believe that, don't you? There is always a much kinder response to the failing dawn of secret night. Dancers know the power of this beautiful all encompassing …
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146142
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Culloden County, MS - 1989 All Janine knew was the idiot had a gun. As to why he would ever need one was beyond her. He couldn't look dumber holding it, either. He was too small for it, or at least he looked that way to…
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146100
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"Something happens in a magical, soulful part of the heart...and you see YOU. You see yourself."
"I can't look at myself."
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146175
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The receipts all fell into the black leather valise he’d retrieved from storage that afternoon, except for the forty-eight cents, which wound up in the right front pocket of his jeans.
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146164
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When he smashed his plate in my lap, the dog hung around, licking my wrist and hoping that he would get some milk, too. With my luck, he'd jump in the pool, getting grass clippings all over the edge. My nails were sharp that day, I had to cut them, and I did while…
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146188
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-Love is a rushing
of blood
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146120
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You held my hand when I hit the ground and told me the shakes would start soon.
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14611010
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not of time, but of all the clocks/
that tick along toward the end/
of all the possibilities.
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146132
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Von Meckel had us all go out and paint this huge red square around the Red Diaper Baby factory. Then he held a big naming rally, at noon, during our lunch break. We weren’t allowed to eat our sandwiches. There was all this pomp and circumstance. We were
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146196
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I tell myself I should have known. You were always absence.
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1461148
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One of the drunk men, a dear friend, hunk, as he updated me, now living the existence of a poet, called from San Francisco to say he would take the plane to Minneapolis, do it, then leave me to raise the baby.
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146173
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How to capture in word, in song, the fleeting moments of our loveYou were hereAnd now you're goneEven as I used to lie next to you,bathed in the care and concern that emanated from your warm black brown eyes,I knew there would be that day, that you were no moreDestined for…
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146100
|
Can you see the rut? Can you dig your fingers into the flesh?
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146143
|
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.
|
14611412
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You call your wife. “Do you see what I see?” you ask.
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1461188
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The cloudless sky/
amplifies the incompletion,/
clarifies the imperfections/
of the night’s normalcy-
|
146077
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As spilled on a sandy Corona del Mar beach/both in moonlight and starlight so lovely/and strangely sad as if receding still
|
1460102
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Saturday morning, and I’m pushing the old truck a little, chasing retreating bands of cloud shadows along a winding hilltop road.
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