1607 1 1
|
she knows that's the natural place of a man, above everything, closest to god, eyes slowly filling with rain.
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1607 20 14
|
I become the accumulation/
of appetites
|
1607 0 1
|
Chet Baker mourns for you, New Coke mourns for you, Roddy Piper mourns for you, 8-track cassettes of Humble Pie and Bachman Turner Overdrive mourn for you
|
1607 8 2
|
Running into the fire, the smoke and the chaos;
selfless first responders, innocent bystanders,
and dedicated runners
|
1607 14 10
|
In those years,
you and I were told to leap
for a world suffused with sound
and industry.
|
1607 4 4
|
unwrapping
the gauze from her wrists....
|
1607 1 1
|
“We know you’re in there, motherfucker. Step out, slowly, and we might keep you fit for an open casket funeral."
|
1607 0 0
|
She didn’t think of herself as an undesirable, no, she didn’t, but did find herself cowering in face of the presumed judgment of those around her. They had more money, more clout, more everything.
|
1606 10 8
|
After his chemotherapy failed, he went water skiing.
|
1606 1 0
|
It was the middle of May when I found out my teacher was screwing my mother.
|
1606 3 3
|
Tell me everything about yourself, if I could care, I can pretend, let me pretend.
|
1606 4 2
|
To be a backup dancer for Billy Ocean; that's all. I had chubby legs like a baby. They turned out akwardly as if I had broken hips but mum said it was just the way I came out and I would grow out of it.
|
1606 5 3
|
It was midnight. I was outside the cottage, digging another row of star-shaped holes for the shrubbery.
|
1606 13 7
|
I miss Mother gentling the small of my back. She has forgotten me. Her little girl. Whose thumb she fussed over when a rose thorn scratched it and blood spilled like a secret. Whose smile she said was her morning sunshine, whose hug was incense. I yearn for her lips…
|
1606 6 3
|
rockstar, moviestar, literary supernova – burning out before all the planets are declassified.
|
1606 10 6
|
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…
|
1606 8 3
|
Every ten days, the Decadent Sisters assembled for dinner. Although raised together, they were each very different...
|
1606 13 12
|
My eyes hold my mother. It's not easy being human she tells me. She always told me. Sure, but the stories are lovely. We all know that. We generate the tales, tell the tales, kiss our children. Live on in their eyes, though, don't…
|
1606 4 3
|
Her back turned, she wanders off
searching for the way home
wringing her hands,
trying to think, but thoughts
evade her.
|
1606 2 1
|
A look flashed across his face as if someone had hooked up his genitals to a car battery.
|
1606 13 9
|
I. he leans his messy head against the walland contemplates his wild mistakeshe discovers a nest of red spidersoutside his rotting basement doorhe watches television in his socksand…
|
1606 6 4
|
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.
|
1606 2 2
|
|
1605 5 4
|
Facebook just hit me with an ad for coping with memory loss, probably because I just turned 63. As far as my favorite social media site is concerned, I am now an Old Lady. When I asked my Facebook pals who are also Seniors what kind of promotions have been turning up…
|
1605 2 1
|
I don't care much for Joking, which is not to say that I don't care at all for Joking, just that I don't care much. I would say, if I had to say, that I care for Joking about as much as I care for a cousin, not a close cousin, one I have a genuine frien
|
1605 7 4
|
They found it naught however as it was lost at metro stops, canceled appointments and in ever dimming light that failed to reflect what was instead of what could have been.
|
1605 2 1
|
my maddening pyromaniac,/ you're burning up my heart/ so open up your broad-toothed mouth/ and let me pour the ashes in.
|
1605 2 0
|
You beckon me with an aperitif.
The Kir Royal tingles, its bubbles tickling my nose.
Its subtle black courant pulls me into your smile.
I drink from your lips the champagne-tingle of your kiss.
|
1605 10 10
|
not of time, but of all the clocks/
that tick along toward the end/
of all the possibilities.
|
1605 0 0
|
The artist leans back in his chair, smoking a cigarette
after lunch, looking away from the table toward the right
He is dressed in white, and he's practically stretched out
his entire length, to relax after rowing the boat all
morning. Sunlight
|