1339 8 6
|
...the scream and the face...
|
1339107
|
In my dreams, I watch a sand shark sleep / on a coral bed
|
13382413
|
I would fly drones with hydrochloric acid sprays/
over their squadrons and watch the disfigurement/
begin. I love disfigurement...
|
133800
|
Dr. van Roos reminded the group that trauma is trauma...
|
1338105
|
salmon sits gentler on my palate
|
133843
|
“106 more miles,” she said.
|
133870
|
He came running out of his narrow little shop, Berthillon
and chased me down the Ilse St. Louis street, saying,
“Monsieur, Monsieur, nous avon pamplemousse!
It’s ici, Monsieur. Your pamplemousse.
They just come in this matin, morning
and I’
|
133800
|
Her hair’s the color of LA at night
On such occasions when the Santa Anas
Have left the hills bone-dry and burning bright
|
133811
|
Winter in Phoenix Arizona happens in July. An overgrown lawn is working its way up onto The sidewalk. And then there's you with your mower, A hidden newspaper in the middle of everything. Snowflakes puff out from under Spinning blades. You hover above like…
|
133883
|
I was talking to this famous female artist
at the reception, (as if I knew anything,)
“If you want to be taken as a serious artist now,
you have to have one long serious eyebrow.”
There was no reaction. So, I said:
“Also, you should kn
|
133864
|
“What took you so long?” she asks. She seldom asks me that when we’re done, but today I feel ready to protract the glory, to tease out its rise and fall like the lingering chords of a Debussy pastorale.
|
133855
|
|
133895
|
The instant you remember
gratitude
with enough focus to spring free its power...
|
133811
|
Burne-Jones hair and big-boned body ever-suggestive of a Titian Venus ... [meets] ... warm like toast, grey smiling eyes and dartingly light-footed,
|
133895
|
Beneath the rise and murmur of your voicethere lies a hush more rapid than the silence meets within your eyes; the ghosts of cloudfall also meet them there. Your tongue has murmurs more than I can hear just now, for here my ears are met with something…
|
13381612
|
He was losing his fight with
malaria, but you would never
know it from his dreams
|
133833
|
|
133801
|
And out on that lake that day you yelled “desperation please!”
And I heard “desperate pleas?”
I wondered about first impressions.
|
133777
|
As spilled on a sandy Corona del Mar beach/both in moonlight and starlight so lovely/and strangely sad as if receding still
|
133772
|
A man asleep on a stack of tires in front of a tire shop on 10th Aveune, NYC.
A store that’s “open 25 hrs,” where apparently time is being manufactured.
The unknown new element, the 25th hour, even though the other 24 may have been shortened som
|
133711
|
...the loving and very painful hurt of our daily sustenance
|
133762
|
Your usage of the English language / is awkward and passé—
|
133742
|
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.
|
133700
|
And there sat one man. Searching for words and solace. The silence returned and the colors peeled off from the walls. Darkness returned with fledgling light. He threw back his head and filled the emptiness with his laugh. He laughed in mirth and in misery
|
133732
|
They looked like girl’s jeans. Matt held them against himself in the mirror. Not that girl’s jeans were a mark against them. Usually, girls had better jeans anyway. Matt took two of the biggest pairs out of the big chest in his grandmother’s back closet.
|
13371110
|
44 miles out
the gauntlet of Red River pines
cast shadows pointing north.
|
1337109
|
Margaret will take her seven away from his raging Irish hammers slurry Saturday night honks smashing red eyes. They'll board a secret train countryside bound where they sing the songs of her own dead Mam who lived poor in the world but…
|
133721
|
Are you a hostile person who gets into trouble when you express your anger? Would you like to annoy the hell out of people and get away with it?
|
133744
|
Perseid meteors fly past their ship like cosmic fire-wasps.
|
133741
|
We cannot love the past...
|
