1581 4 1
|
Infinite patience, tempered glass hearts—is this what it takes? /
Shatterproof backtrack, slow march through reversals—too, what it takes.
|
158132
|
I could smell a bold combination of cheap perfume, stale smoke, and sex excreting from her weathered pores. The bus engine hummed as we climbed a winding road. She scratched her neck and tried to finger comb through her knotted hair. I caught a glimpse of
|
158153
|
under your skin the moon is alive
|
15811110
|
That won’t kill me, will it? I asked. Maybe, the doctor said.
|
158100
|
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…
|
158150
|
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…
|
1581126
|
because you pay/
for it to matter to me.
|
158165
|
We now live in post-Postmodern Absurdist fear of course, says our smiling Prof. That’s the price we pay he tells us. . . .
|
158095
|
The number is very large/
and perpetually changes//
as old stars fade, explode,/
or collapse into something not stars
|
158097
|
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.
|
158032
|
I turned a maiden to a witch / and back again
|
158074
|
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
|
158000
|
Emi stood up and turned to Mayumi. She did not know what else to say. There was a sense of helplessness.
|
1580129
|
anxiety
said Kierkegaard
is the dizziness
of freedom
|
158043
|
Until the ivy hides me in
|
158084
|
You don't want to knowthe details of my lifethe gossipthe boring moments strung togetheracross the lap ofmy sense of responsibilityit drives methrough the daysdoing this and thatchore, check on the listi am tired and need to stop for a drinkand then, i am filled up for a…
|
158000
|
she thinks she looks good in her short red dress, black makeup around her eyes, last night's lipstick a slap of crimson on her cheek.
"like this," she says, holding the hammer above her head.
|
158066
|
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…
|
15802110
|
The fly comes in against my will/
and hers. She would prefer/
the wider world with its piles of shit
|
158065
|
in the deep dark of
a 2 a.m. atmosphere
|
15801610
|
Shadows are so admirable in film noir
less so on x-rays and mammograms
|
158011
|
children love to push the gas up and down my limbs
|
157960
|
Velvet answered the door in a red leather dress that was made with just about enough material to make a wallet, and looking like a long limbed drink of water calling out to a thirsty man.
|
157994
|
Later, when she said she'd had miscarriages, I should have put it all together.
|
157943
|
. . . the empiricism of the mechanical had wound tight into her, lessons her few calendars could never impart without aid from sundials, hourglasses, clocks.
|
157900
|
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.
|
157932
|
His academic nightmare is set in an examination hall, where the student takes a seat at a folding table in the center of the room.
|
157996
|
I guess at the end you’re only
looking forward. Or upward actually,
since you can only lie there on your back
looking upward, straight ahead toward infinity,
your mouth in a grimace, with the ghostly
pink lips peeled back from the teeth.
|
157954
|
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,…
|
157976
|
will we begin again?We are a wheelFirst touchfirst kissfirst heatThey fade, disappear, come back again.Spokes in our wheel.When again shall we begin again?I hold you and feel myself spincaught in the whirlwind of thrill -the world, saturated with your scent.We hold each…
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