1470 9 6
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Listen to him barking in the night. Fear shifts on the bed next to you, hogging the covers. Stare at the ceiling and wonder what to do. Forget his birthday. Forget he is forty-two. Forget the phone call from Berkeley twenty-one years…
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1470138
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I worry for the daffodils/
and there optimistic yellow bursts./
I worry for the over-eager clover,//
prodigious green on crepe myrtles,/
even for the early green of nut grass.
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147033
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Or, today, when early summer sweated the long pants off every woman under the age of thirty. Did I notice the way you looked at them for one, two, three seconds; then didn't, partial to short-shorts. It was sly how you kept them in your line of sight, alm
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147088
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My favorite lie is that he'd escaped the South Tower before it collapsed. Smoke inhalation erased his way home. Mine's better than mother's version: a stranger hurled herself onto him. The truth is when they stopped search and rescue, mother told father, Go. Even dead, his…
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147031
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When our body falters, deny us rest.
When our minds crack under the strain, forbid us sanity.
When we are too tired to fight give us war.
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147097
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Out in the world again, pretending to belong.
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147043
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1. Walking here
with you
on these narrow
strands
of clean air
& imagination
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147065
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in the deep dark of
a 2 a.m. atmosphere
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147012
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she shivered in the ceasefire like a virginal nude brought to life.
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147043
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The Rapture comes and goes unannounced in carbonated soda bubbles spicing the air.
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1469114
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He is leaning back against a pillar watching the dancing; a spectator to joy – both planned and spontaneous – that’s unfolding in bodies fourteen and fifteen years old in front of him.
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146954
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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…
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146932
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Somniloquies rise like the drowned . . .
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146953
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“You’ve put all my anorexic friends on the table nearest the buffet,” I say. “And all my bulimic friends on the other side of the room away from the buffet and the toilets.”
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146921
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the little crummy salon that churned out little fat women with pinked curly hair
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146900
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“You did what?”
“Well, the bike is a classic. Getting the proper parts for it just isn’t easy.”
“You’ll end up like smeared all over the road doing things like that, and I’ll have to pick you up again. Geez. Watch out for this branch-”
Bruce held
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146951
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146922
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Beautiful boy! I am doomed / to have attended your presence; / time consumes us, but you / have changed so little...
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146951
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He was choking on the fumes.
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14691411
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chains across all the old doors
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1469127
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1469157
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I fondly remember those warm, weekend evenings at twilight on the beach. After the frolic of the waves flattened, sending the surfers home and, after the last bait was spent, sending the surfcasters away, I'd set up the little, foldable, 3‘x4', rectangular stage I always…
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146900
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I'm getting self-righteous here, Dear Reader . . . [hey! wait a second! this is my diary! what are you doing, looking at it, dude! Hit the road! Scram! Vamoose!]
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146965
|
When I first started out in my working career, I made it the habit of obtaining jobs with companies that were about to go under. (I wrote more books while on unemployment than by any other method.) I was a real bloodhound at sniffing out the pre-dawn od
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14691910
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146911
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“Can you adopt if you work for the circus?” I asked her
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146821
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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
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146895
|
The world doesn'tend just becauseyou want it to.Bonus poems:The Poet(Series 1)by Darryl PricePoet in a TreeYeah, well, it's not up here either. Although the everything and nothing view is nice. Only because it doesn't have any abandoned cars in it. I'm…
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146864
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My mother moved her things out of my parents’ bedroom into the attic guest room. When I asked where guests would sleep, my father said, “Matthew, don’t be an asshole.”
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146822
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Tomorrow, they'd bury their daughter . . . and still, so many questions. Why would a beautiful fourteen-year-old choose for herself such a horrible, painful death? In life, she appeared the antithesis of suicidal ideation: excellent grades, well-liked in school and…
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