1573 8 4
|
It’s just that—well, I don’t know how to put this—
With a Dadaist poet a non-affair is the height of erotic bliss.
|
157320
|
This was just noise now – pure, raw noise, grabbed from their throats and flung high by some sharp claws of violence buried in their breasts. Even from his third floor apartment, they sounded like they were right outside his window now. It was if they h
|
157355
|
It is hunting season
in Jersey today.
They say
“There are too many deer
in Jersey today.”
|
157398
|
The Chicago to Denver fast train clocked 90 MPH plus, but braked hard on the long curve through town, sparks ringing flanged wheels.
|
157386
|
He fell through her scalp-crust
|
157362
|
He's driving in the Sierra Nevada with his wife and their small daughters and the girls are fighting and he can't take much more of it.
|
1573152
|
It was Fredrick Miller, not his murdered son Matthew, who was executed Monday night at Henshaw Prison. (the system won't take anything under 200 characters, so this part is just to take up space. please ignore)
|
157331
|
We sat quietly in my truck. My lit cigarette twitched between my lips. Samantha and I stared at the front door of Planned Parenthood in Worcester.
|
157362
|
The goose on the roof isn’t aware it is doing anything odd...
|
157333
|
I am asking for something as simple as water. In an oak tree, weeping, a child climbed too high. Tears that the barkstain will never wash clear. O love. We ask far too much when we fall. In a momentary lapsus, the words…
|
157354
|
I smell it, it smells/Of giggles and leg shaking
|
157375
|
Nine sated elephants and an ass sit around a decimated Thanksgiving table discussing the state of the union over the hacked to bits carcass of a twenty-three pound turkey. Two years in to The Great Communicator's Lame Duck term and the nine elephants, whose…
|
1573105
|
Chuck woke when he smelled cooking.
|
157298
|
drunkards indulge, addicts abuse
|
157232
|
On shingle of seashells &
Bullet shells,
Ghosts drift along the shore
Of the Black Sea.
|
157264
|
After the ship stopped shaking, the angry flashes of warning lights discontinued, a few people could be heard sobbing or whispering prayers.
|
15721111
|
Why do people kill themselves with food? It’s obvious, I suppose. They’re hungry.
|
1572144
|
|
157241
|
The next moment is a convergence made from a single repeating sequence that disappears behind the voice that tells of it.
|
157211
|
If I floated about this coffee cafe,Like a spirit, just watching.In this room of framed fake memories,A room of ambient light, marketing to the masses,(It works; it gets 'em in the doors.)If I floated, I'd seeThese people sitting—eating, drinking, sipping, typing,…
|
1571105
|
Two types coexist- the sanguine/
and exsanguinated./
My skin is cool/
and pale as moonlight
|
157176
|
The faces of the sun remain unaltered across the
seven day forecast.
I am sweat-glued to a poem, looking up at the
wall-mounted TV in a diner in the Valley
|
157100
|
Getting answers felt like it was not enough. Madam Mayweather wanted more. She wanted to hurt someone.
|
157155
|
|
157100
|
“They’re not gonna shoot him?” Rick cried.
|
157100
|
His name is Rick Reynolds. His name is Steve Redford.
|
157142
|
My playing would falter languidly, and transcend itself like a wishful Nocturne
|
157175
|
On a trail, Richard and I came upon a saguaro cactus that had dried in the shape of a human figure. Its arms were lifted and its back was stooped. I said, “It looks like my mother.”
|
157122
|
|
157198
|
Years later he surveys this place again to post something, anything. He plays "sex on fire," sounds that once fueled him. Now he knows the song is about VD, not unbridled potency. Names and words all seem at once familiar and numbing and noise. He once wanted fame or…
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