1651 5 3
|
The arrangements of lights on the cracking towers are a segment of Orion’s belt, the handle of the Big Dipper and a section of Andromeda’s spine.
|
16511814
|
The phone rings. The oven beeps./
The locomotive whistles and howls.
|
165121
|
It is like truth on the battle field. Muted
|
165121
|
This was before the cancer, years before. He did this every day: up at five, before Astrid and Max. Four cups of coffee in the machine. A bowl of granola. Five hundred words. Five hundred words no matter goddamn what. Five hundred words on Sunday and Chri
|
165196
|
Erased. Like chalk across my body,
a fine powder of forgetfulness,
with a few swipes --- all those names
and faces, gone. The letters burned.
|
165122
|
Suppose Eve, strolling through the sunlit Garden, had not stumbled on that particular Tree at all, the wily serpent twined in its lower branches?
|
165186
|
If I seemed disappointed after our conversation,
then, for the record, that was never the case.
|
165132
|
...Heroin. It helped them get through the tricks and sucked up their flesh.
|
165131
|
Your favorite nickname
existed only in the bright red
cherry smoldering
at the end of your smoke.
|
165087
|
First he wrote it in wet cement at the intersection:
“Tad Loves Kimberley,”
with a big heart around it.
He was real proud, you could see.
But then later on that year, the graffiti began
appearing everywhere, on all the store walls:
“Kimberle
|
165033
|
From this distance, he reminded me of a sleazy pink flamingo, waiting for feeding time at the zoo to deepen the timbre of his feathers and hint at the promise of a narcotic aviation before his commune of hens.
|
165032
|
"Why, before the summer has passed
You won’t remember her name. . ."
|
165020
|
The sighs of the nearby shore came to me through an open window.Wave after gentle wave caressed her broad, sand crusted skin. Mesmerized, I lay still.The in out sound of breathing now filled the room.Your warmth enveloping me like the satin…
|
1650129
|
anxiety
said Kierkegaard
is the dizziness
of freedom
|
165000
|
The bullet split her head in half before she could finish her sentence. Her blood sprayed out onto my face and covered my lips. The taste of life as it suddenly ended.
|
165098
|
On my twenty-second birthday, in the spring of 1979, I had a crawfish boil, my first. Ninety pounds of red mudbugs on a picnic table spread with newspaper, my birthday cake sitting at the end of the table like an afterthought.I hadn't…
|
16501411
|
chains across all the old doors
|
1650116
|
|
164900
|
1. HeWomen's heads turned when Remy stopped in the doorway — as they always did. He noticed — as he always did — but paid no attention as he scanned the room. Too nervy to care. No sign of Fiona. Good. It paid to be the one doing the…
|
164943
|
. . . the empiricism of the mechanical had wound tight into her, lessons her few calendars could never impart without aid from sundials, hourglasses, clocks.
|
164995
|
I fear my personal information travels the World Wide Web/
and mad Ukrainians will steal my name and wealth./
I fear the fiscal cliff and raising the ceiling on national debt./
I fear a death by taxes.
|
1649116
|
W here do you think you're going
what'll you think you'll do
running down this highway
that you never even knew
|
164945
|
Art books, paintings, antique chairs, marble tables, full length gold gilded mirrors, oriental rugs, tapestries, a Louis XVI painted French armoire, a wrought iron Deco coffee table, flat ware, silver flasks, mantel lamps, iron gates, a silk settee, theat
|
164986
|
The drop is like a hangman's drop, an executioner's, but farther and longer, perhaps three or four seconds.
|
164977
|
It’s so uncomfortable being an Angel in a sack
|
164977
|
You think I don't know, that's your whole stupid problem. You don't believe in anyone. You must enjoy living in a dark lonely universe. I don't know if you know or not about the lights that live in your own head, but I believe …
|
164930
|
Blend the dog a drink and sit down beside him and draw straws for regrets.
|
1649118
|
I can’t decide whether I want to be buried or cremated when I die.
|
164832
|
In retrospect, we should have been a cult.
|
164852
|
I walk through nameless
streets, narrow and winding,
past shops selling scarves,
spices, skins.
|
