1620 5 4
|
The coin, so little, the watch chain, the youth, the fading softening speech, each hand and finger, the panic modeled on your own eyes, the ashtray, certain stumps along the way, the long distance, the odd feather, the jazz rope gone,…
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162054
|
It was uncomfortable to realize people had agendas. That there could be invisible realities.
|
162085
|
We will collapse in a storm of images
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162044
|
Charles tapped the anger management code on his steering wheel. He rolled down his street and saw Jack Watson throwing stuff into the trunk of his black Volvo coupe. He waved, but Jack did not wave back. Jack's face was blazing red. He looked like he might have a…
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162032
|
The combined smells of ocean breeze, grilled cheese sandwiches, incense and sweat and burning herb that wafted over from Shakedown, along with windblown notes from tinny car speakers all rolled into a potent sensory cocktail he hadn’t tasted in far too l
|
162030
|
|
161911
|
"Shit," said the Charge Nurse. "Not again."
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161911
|
1. Poor grammar does not sleep. 2. We'll never finish every idea we have. 3. No matter how hard you try, you still might make it into my book
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161995
|
The number is very large/
and perpetually changes//
as old stars fade, explode,/
or collapse into something not stars
|
161985
|
It's all over now, Baby Blue...
|
161974
|
Mythical Itch and the Unicorns
Working Late
Jacuzzi Floozy
One Erection
Diego Rivera’s Poncho
Frieda’s Moustache
Avalanche
Babushka Dolls
Photographic Mammary
Drool
Sir Gruntsalot
Uber Rubber
Iota Pie
Elder Geese
Ladylike
Rud
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161900
|
"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."
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161995
|
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.
|
1619129
|
anxiety
said Kierkegaard
is the dizziness
of freedom
|
161910
|
No matter how much he composes and prepares, he cannot override the electrical trigger in his brain. Something to do with the resonance of physical memory. It remembers amplitudes of current.
|
161910
|
Read signs sometimes and you just might get where you're trying to go. When Eddie suggested they stop for a Whopper, Dennis said no. "Fuck Burger King, man. Let's get that Wendy's up there." They got…
|
161950
|
I made her a mix tape. It was revolutionary. Twenty-two songs she had to hear at least once in her life. I even drew some trippy drug-like designs on the label of the CD to make it seem more real. It was the ocean and the sun and every body of land balled up…
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161966
|
It's really not too bad. The personI am was me. We laughed insidethose sacred places at all the monieswell spent. We walked in the gardenswithout any shoes on. Not one singleflower seemed to mind. And now it'sa forgotten mess or so I've imagined.I'd rather you think about…
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161953
|
|
161900
|
Even if you're doing it together, there's no unity when everyone's dancing to their own tune.
|
161954
|
I had the idea for a pageant for my obedience school at spring graduation
|
1619157
|
Mark Reep is a faded Polaroid oracle taped to the only unbroken window of an abandoned house in Ithaca NY.
|
161971
|
There was an empty box on his facebook page asking to be filled in with, “What’s on your mind?” He thought. "Hair?"
|
161897
|
After lunch I left my office and trickled along like a slow leak, a notch above meandering; gravity had become a lateral force that pulled me forward.
|
161822
|
From my place, down here amongst the earth, we have many names for you.
|
161887
|
I supposed reluctantly that Princeton is soft as Macalester College is soft. A person could die just for having attended U.W.-Madison or Yale.
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1618126
|
My ChurchThe white dressThe bridesmaidsThe friends, the familySadnessMy church knewno music
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161820
|
The pier stretched out by where sharks came and men waited with beautiful dirty buckets that held strange and dangerous things, buckets with fish guts, buckets with blood, with character, buckets like prophets or a gritty desert walking saviour like Chris
|
161865
|
I stole forth dimly in the dripping pause
|
161874
|
I don’t know what to do with all this money flowing from my books.
It’s burning a hole in my literary pocket.
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