1612 1 1
|
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,…
|
161176
|
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
|
161140
|
“I’m making a dress,” she said, feeding the pages through the sewing machine.
He didn’t know how to answer. “Are those my books?”
|
161121
|
Mutiny is the last I remember.
|
16112011
|
the frost has made all tender greens bow
|
161175
|
The snap of a broken heart is exactly One second longer than this poem is going To be when it finishes up being said . The snap Of a broken heart is unlike anything that Cartwheels out of sync with the rest of Us truly lucky ones. The broken snap of a …
|
161186
|
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.
|
161121
|
They could cram Rob inside the trunk and then drop him somewhere in the dingles.
|
161153
|
—Jesus, a snoring cat. No wonder Alex put this cat outside.
|
161062
|
George was the biggest coward alive. But he was too afraid to admit it. But that therein was his cowardice. He couldn't face the truth. He couldn't face his weakness. It made him uncomfortable, the thought that he might need to change.
|
161032
|
|
161030
|
Everything needs context, otherwise reality would be nothing more than stardust with a spark.
|
161088
|
I clearly see the squirrels of
negativity all around me
or at least I sense that
they are there,
filling in the blank spaces
as I read down the page
prior to arriving at
the meaning of everything.
The greenness of figs
before they
|
161011
|
Route 346 is the way Pop drove to Troy long after everybody else took Route 2. Today Charlie and I drive in the opposite direction. Back then, Pop drove us to Troy on Route 346 on Sunday afternoons with the car windows…
|
161021
|
Gert sat in the car and wiped at the inside of the window while the defroster blasted at full strength. The shards and slivers of ice that networked across the windshield were just thick enough to hinder visibility. Bane wrenched the door open and shoved
|
161011
|
Clouds quickly appeared, in a perfect peach sky. Big, puffy clouds, moving together, formed the shape of a heart.
|
161064
|
After the ship stopped shaking, the angry flashes of warning lights discontinued, a few people could be heard sobbing or whispering prayers.
|
161012
|
David looked at the plaque sitting on top of his computer monitor and wondered if he’d even touched it since he’d placed it there. He picked it up and brushed off six years’ worth of dust into the wastebasket on top of the mustard-stained sandwich wrappe
|
1610119
|
For Sale: Clean Depends, Never Worn
|
161030
|
There's something wrong with my feet, if they are my feet at all.
|
160922
|
I'm living where I've always lived, in Georgia.
|
160986
|
|
160900
|
Getting answers felt like it was not enough. Madam Mayweather wanted more. She wanted to hurt someone.
|
160952
|
They build them high they do in Waveland, Mississippi.The tall houses with their skinny thighs spread wide flirting with the dusky coast, like antebellum ladies petticoats lifted, stockings wetted, ankles bared, savingtheir hems from the unpredictable tide,…
|
160986
|
He fell through her scalp-crust
|
160910
|
Hoo-ah! I love these open mikes, I get a chance to pour it out, this… whatever it is, this passion, all this love from I’ll never know where, and then, and then, sometimes, too much hate. Everything’s like all zowie!—splashing scarlet and purple,
|
16091110
|
Almost every weekend I'd ask Henry to go out with me and Marge, telling him we could double and, hey, maybe he could bring Ellen, who he dated a while back, who still asked about him. I'd suggest such things as going to a movie or out for a few drinks to reminisce about our…
|
160954
|
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…
|
16091312
|
Times were tough back then. Just a few jobs. This was in the late thirties. It's the story of how Albert hooked up with Iris. Their unlikely meeting took place when they met out on the Highway 61 right-of-way just outside of Natchez, Mississippi, each trying to hitch…
|
160866
|
Then I am wearing a brightly colored raincoat while sitting on a deck among hundreds of tiny glowing spores
|
