1654 4 1
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Byron's achievement, certainly quite remarkable, is to have raised the drunken monologue to a literary form.
Edmund Wilson
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165454
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I found the hand eight months ago, after I planned to grow a meadow of tiny yellow blossoms in my yard.
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165420
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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…
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165443
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. . . the empiricism of the mechanical had wound tight into her, lessons her few calendars could never impart without aid from sundials, hourglasses, clocks.
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1654129
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anxiety
said Kierkegaard
is the dizziness
of freedom
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165453
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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.
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16541814
|
The phone rings. The oven beeps./
The locomotive whistles and howls.
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165432
|
What I did I wouldn't call criminal, just stupid. Even my judge, after so many court appointments, didn't understand what had happened. And there's a reason I got out on illegal sentencing but, either way, I paid the better part of a year for it all. I don't want to tell…
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16541312
|
Forty years later he was still her Romeo, she his Juliet.
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165440
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1654157
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Mark Reep is a faded Polaroid oracle taped to the only unbroken window of an abandoned house in Ithaca NY.
|
165387
|
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
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165385
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Snipers wear camouflage clothing to avoid being seen. It wouldn’t do for a sniper to be seen because then the sniper might become the snipee.
|
165352
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I walk through nameless
streets, narrow and winding,
past shops selling scarves,
spices, skins.
|
16531411
|
chains across all the old doors
|
165321
|
It is like truth on the battle field. Muted
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165321
|
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
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165377
|
It’s so uncomfortable being an Angel in a sack
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165377
|
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 …
|
165322
|
Suppose Eve, strolling through the sunlit Garden, had not stumbled on that particular Tree at all, the wily serpent twined in its lower branches?
|
165350
|
She said “I have to go”, he answered with his eyes “Don't” and they stepped closer to each other in the kitchen, a step on the tiled floor, the remnants of their tea cold on the counter top.
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165332
|
...Heroin. It helped them get through the tricks and sucked up their flesh.
|
165330
|
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165230
|
I see ghosts. They accost me in their sleep. Hundreds of them. When I wake up (after a long night of half-waking), I think, What wold ghosts want with me? I have nothing for them. But at night they're there again, watching, tapping my shoulder as I lay awake. Sometime…
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165264
|
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.”
|
165232
|
"Why, before the summer has passed
You won’t remember her name. . ."
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165274
|
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
|
1652116
|
W here do you think you're going
what'll you think you'll do
running down this highway
that you never even knew
|
1652106
|
There were only six passengers aboard the small ferry...
|
165221
|
"Now, I'm not no Holocaust Denier . . . I just think it was a little bump in the road! Like Reagan said about Watergate . . . 'Mistakes were made,' and all. Well, shoot . . .…
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