1546 5 4
|
we gave divided houses / child stand up anyway
|
15462112
|
No twinkle- so, planet, not star./
And bright, so either Venus/
or Jupiter. I’m guessing, Jupiter.
|
154652
|
Roy Carver owned a big tire retreading outfit over on the Mississippi.
|
154631
|
"seventy five degrees longitude
submerged
in holy rivers
out of my mind emerge
anointed paramahamsas"
|
154554
|
Cornelius van Linjpleel discovered and excavated for himself a lone Etruscan tomb not far from Populonia in 1898.
|
154500
|
Throughout breakfast Quebec kept watching this investor fellow, John Lytle. She tried remembering something about him, about when they'd first met. Her first impressions were very nearly always correct. But all she could bring to memory now was that it
|
154532
|
Somniloquies rise like the drowned . . .
|
154565
|
Santa’s stuck/you say? In the chimney of course./The lard-arsed ol’bastard struggling
|
154567
|
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 …
|
154500
|
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…
|
15451312
|
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…
|
154521
|
|
154500
|
They were working on the factory floor when they died, the auspices of mayhem filtering out to a host of ravens gleaning the neighboring fields. Clouds of them fled the scene around the time of the incident turning the day into twilight…
|
154500
|
... and photos of friends from former lives: the Wolfman; Drac; the Mummy; my ungrateful Son; even my gold-digging, coat-tailer ex-wife.
|
154461
|
Mr. Wazzeldot has seven legs. He lives very comfortably. He likes to sit by the fire. There's a large cushion for a chair, and in the evenings, he sips his Bloody Marys. I know because I visit him…
|
154400
|
"Nothingness had had enough. Nothingness had become militant. It had bought a camouflage jacket. It grew an afro. It burned its bra. Nothingness was pissed, and it wanted its stuff back."
|
154400
|
I'm a jogger of these parts, but I've yet to discover a dead body, or even dead body parts, or worse yet, discover that my parts will be discovered by some unfortunate jogger.
|
154433
|
I am speeding on the highway at 2AM because no one is here...
|
154453
|
My Aunt's husband liked to dress up like a clown
|
154432
|
Instead, I get things like,
“Why can’t you find a nice man with cancer or a bum leg?”
|
154431
|
Nothing is ever hoarded in our house, everything is eaten.
|
15441511
|
Early Spring, 1075, Northumbria: Judith, too ashamed to speak, too angry to cry, waves her handmaiden away. She wants no food. Wind drives icy rain across the thickness of…
|
1544157
|
Mark Reep is a faded Polaroid oracle taped to the only unbroken window of an abandoned house in Ithaca NY.
|
15431212
|
Not only half-full/
but stress-fractured
|
1543103
|
Palms planted firmly against his temples, Travis paced the room like a caged animal. Giant black bats screeched in his brain, their pointy wings scraping at the edges of his cranium.
|
154331
|
|
154385
|
It's all over now, Baby Blue...
|
1543143
|
Of all the authors in the library, it was a wife from Maryland who called out from her marriage dormer I was not to read her.
|
15431311
|
It’s possible to forgive the past its trespasses / stop seeing the future as a threat, reimagine / the present as a goal.
|
154352
|
jaws blossoming with drool,/ a captured wolf slinks low/ across the crowded land/ for that most tender lamb/ to catch it by surprise.
|
