1518 20 14
|
I become the accumulation/
of appetites
|
151800
|
The sun was at the edge of the earth. The shadows around Ayane and her friends brought the creature closer.
|
151862
|
It was only two days before Christmas. Jonathan remembered his mother crying.
|
151811
|
Route 346 is the way Pop drove to Troy long after everybody else took Route 2. Today Charlie and I drive in the opposite direction. Back then, Pop drove us to Troy on Route 346 on Sunday afternoons with the car windows…
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151887
|
I imagine you in the States,
pushing stacks of work papers and our memories
to the side, sense your enjoyment that
you won’t see the worry of your
behavior reflected in my eyes again.
That you can buy and bang and be
whomever you want,
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1518107
|
We are young
That’s all we’ve got
We take drugs
We smoke pot
You got mugged
And I got shot
We are young
That’s all we’ve got
I want you to love me like it’s midnight
Midnight, midnight
Yeah, your mama wants you home
But she knows
|
1518117
|
I saw it coming from five feet
|
151843
|
|
151852
|
Roy Carver owned a big tire retreading outfit over on the Mississippi.
|
151831
|
"seventy five degrees longitude
submerged
in holy rivers
out of my mind emerge
anointed paramahamsas"
|
151764
|
OF ALL 2,000 YEARS 10 Point The city after the snow was Medieval, the thousand paths wound as browsing deer. Inside her coat what wild heart. Lethe The beads were rolled-river at her throat, milk blue on a yellow string. I…
|
1517102
|
Saturday morning, and I’m pushing the old truck a little, chasing retreating bands of cloud shadows along a winding hilltop road.
|
1517104
|
"Middle class workers and working class poor and the unemployed will soon be forming a revolutionary movement to break this stranglehold of corrupt elites."
|
151776
|
I read it all wrong. In writing her novel, I thought Marilynne Robinson was writing about twins — writing, in some way, about me. Instead, these characters, Lucille and Ruthie, were standard sisters, one older than the other. In fact, Robinson explains th
|
151796
|
It hangs unspoken in the sadness he pushes through his harmonica, while his hands work the old, beat-up guitar that tries to be a Gibson for his fingertips.
|
151700
|
"Do you know how long they've waited for you?" Elle asked. "At first, it was every day after school, waiting at the windows. They wouldn't go play with friends because they wanted to be here, in case you returned. Then, they used to believe you would come
|
151732
|
it's the constant reminders of something that was never a constant remind her but i suppose there is no ticking clock on that which is wondrous and it was right right it's hard to come up with cleverly phrased universal truths and it's hard to make…
|
151743
|
We all need a place to stay.
|
151700
|
Street by street, non-combatants ran away. Each one passed by the Society and law enforcement screaming.
|
151767
|
1. Weeds of the World (Unite!) We invade the invaders and they invade us, these little Blooming weeds. They raise five flowers and let them blow Into the winds like sheets of stars. All of us Steer by their turning tide. All of us will eventually …
|
15171510
|
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151700
|
Mint upon my palate, I rub sleep infused eyes and crawl under the covers. Oh blessed sleep, please descend upon this body and transverse this fatigue. Eyes closed, bring a wavering blackness upon subtle lids. The conversation begins…
|
151720
|
One day when they were sitting on the curb together at 4th Street and Mendocino Avenue in Santa Rosa and Joe was calling out to passers by in a singsong voice, “Spare change for cigs,” she had persuaded them that they should try to join the circus.
|
151754
|
we gave divided houses / child stand up anyway
|
15171410
|
Microscopic purposes emerged//
with their combinations and permutations
|
151767
|
“Not all the birds are to be trusted, and there are other spies more evil than they are.” —J.R.R.Tolkien This may well be our own about time, time to walk out that comfortable front door forever into danger. Nothing will ever…
|
151786
|
WANTED: a Muse.
Former Special Forces solider turned poet seeking artistic inspiration. Brunettes preferred but blondes will not be turned away; gingers, however, are out of the question. Must have a voice that sounds like money, a self-destructive tem
|
151652
|
jaws blossoming with drool,/ a captured wolf slinks low/ across the crowded land/ for that most tender lamb/ to catch it by surprise.
|
151643
|
Atlanta, 1990The night we almost died,crushed at a one-hit wonder concert,comes back to mewhen the club announces it's closing.An ancient excelsior millturned industrial dance hall,I spent three years mapping every dark corner, finding secret places for sex and…
|
151642
|
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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