1551 5 4
|
before your full lips touch
mine.
|
155143
|
1. Walking here
with you
on these narrow
strands
of clean air
& imagination
|
155100
|
My face in your face The light in your eyes Dancing and twirling Growing, alive A hall of mirrors reflecting me Shards of glass Silver and black Injure and cut Years of bad luck A hall of mirrors protecting me Wrinkles and bags Time's been unkind Disease and…
|
155162
|
A year ago, my neighbor was a sexy graduate student in fashion design, sounds perhaps shabby, yet if it is, then we in the Middle West are all shabby. That girl's father graduated from high school with Bob Dylan in Hibbing, not entitling her to a child.
|
155031
|
I’ve got a full day ahead of me; I have to write a brief in Lipshutz v. Fredbird, a property damage claim against the St. Louis Cardinals’ mascot for breaking a fan’s glasses as part of his routine.
|
155033
|
He reacted as if I had sprinkled holy water upon his furnaces.
|
1550119
|
If you can’t consummate tomorrow / you may as well just annul the future
|
1550109
|
I ran into Tanya at “Pearl's” — maybe it was still called “Big Balls” — over in the Stockyards (Ft. Worth) in '72 and right up front we both admitted to loving honky-tonks and “done me wrong” songs which is why we were there…
|
1550145
|
Anson Chi/
tried to kill my wife
|
155098
|
Like the swift night-black blue of a cormorant as it suddenly dips into a rush of white cold water,eyeing its possible food, we too sweepdown on what we think we see, rising wet sometimes with the reward,or hapless, dripping, we try again.
|
155087
|
in their hunt for desires not felt on either side of the crescent /
called Gowanus
|
155000
|
Warranties are what made America great, although hers has expired and the mailbox will remain empty for another fifteen days.
|
155086
|
My uncle lived part-time in prison, in a cell with a blanket, pillow, and towel. The remainder of his days he lived in a small house on Prospect Street.
|
155077
|
The light on his face from a lamp,
felt hat with a black band scrunched down,
the light on his face as though thrown there,
the nose creating a strong shadow,
with dark, straight eyebrows under the hat,
red and orange beard.
Leaning forwar
|
155054
|
I feel unlike myself, I think. I've been afraid of notebooks, pens, writing. I've hoped for telekinesis between empty pages and my mind. The hoping leaves me empty handed, and I have nothing to show. I feel unlike myself. I feel the whites of my eyes as…
|
1549149
|
Pain is the saddle which rides me
Pain is the cowboy's gun
More morphing, please!
|
1549115
|
Thank you for the flip book with the woman dancing, bird wing elbows, knees this way and that.
|
15491311
|
He sat at the bar and waited for her. He looked at the noon drinkers with indifferent eyes.
|
1549119
|
The universe extracts no retribution./
It annihilates without a thought/
of evil/good, sin/virtue.
|
154900
|
She didn't want to let go of the crumpled tissue she had been holding all this time, as it is wrong to litter, but she finally did, and felt free. Released. Bad. Naughty. Almost orgasmic.
|
1549116
|
Is this a place to show posterity and mortality?
|
154994
|
|
154947
|
Early on, I looked for work; I walked the want-ad trail. Shuttle-driver, apartment leasing expert, laundry technician, account executive, PHP developer, dog sitter, sleep study subject – I would do anything that seemed steady.
|
154921
|
Mutiny is the last I remember.
|
154944
|
In my dreams I am cremated in the burning Library of Alexandria.
|
154900
|
Welcome to the genocide city zone I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay We've been killing folks here All the live-long day If you want to join us You'll have to pay the price Your soul's the cost, so ante up C'mon and shoot the dice Welcome to the genocide city zone …
|
154983
|
|
15491110
|
My father bouncing his leg to slow rock music with me on one knee, telling me I should keep a special place in my heart for my teeth, to remember where I lose them, on the playground like he did when he was my age, fighting a friend named Bobby-Joe. Or else I could lose…
|
154954
|
If I do not hear you leaving by the door... The nearness here of this yet questions when I know you will not come so back again, Nowise the same as you were there before. My own reflection, centred at its core On knowing each …
|
1549107
|
We keep a ruin of a house, but I suppose it's all right.
|
