1099 4 4
|
A rope is cleaner,
he explains with a straight face.
He's calmed by the visual.
|
109963
|
I feel so glamorous when I talk to Andy on the phone
|
109961
|
It was the dead of winter. I took my father's shotgun from his closet. He kept it wrapped up in one of those khaki-colored gun tote bags that had a zipper running the whole length of the gun. It was a 16-gauge, single action shotgun. Anyone could tell wha
|
10991110
|
In the morning the fog boils up from the ground as I pad down the steps to the lake in bare feet. I stand at the edge of the water naked as a newborn.
|
109972
|
It waited and witnessed the seasons complete a grouping and form a year. Then it watched them do it again. Winter, spring, summer, fall. It watched from the inside of course. But it could see. Big sliding glass doors and long and wide windows stayed the course also, way…
|
109921
|
I am exceeded / by a leaf
|
1098116
|
Jane knew what to do
when she heard murmurs in the ceiling,
knew what to do when she struck out on the moor.
|
109886
|
It was your present world that seemed more than mad to me. Your polished stiff brown shoes that always squeaked like mice, while the latest rude Bombers bubbled up in their comfortable Dart-board garages like apple pies…
|
109852
|
All is Ready I have bathed in patchouli oil and my hair gleams, lustrous with brushing. I am wearing my gold ankle bracelets with the ruby charms that my love gave me when we had been married one year. My robe is fuschia silk and under it I wear…
|
109862
|
It was only two days before Christmas. Jonathan remembered his mother crying.
|
109821
|
Ben exited the uptown Broadway Local at 103rd and oriented himself.
|
1098109
|
We’re lucky it/
was chunky spew,
|
109821
|
He lays his piping accoutrement on the bedside table, removes his cap, brocaded jacket, boots and slacks. Holmes brushes gently, the back of his hand across the confused face of Watson— their…
|
109811
|
Wherever you decide to grow
Please remember to ask the dirt
‘Am I still dust’
|
109841
|
When I was young I bowed with such forgotten politeness, a young salesman, enchanting, in the silken trades. But I remembered the sun also when it was in Hades, which had forgotten to set, or to rise.
Peace, also, dangled there by the neck. Such a pre
|
109843
|
Abstractions excite me. I can't say why. There are treasures in the mountains. Extremities and peaks. Romantic cures and the curious juice of blackberries. The truth and authority of rock. It feels impersonal, and tilts into eccentric configurations. What is purpose?…
|
109842
|
THE man in the tent with the stick points to the chart on the wall and says to us all: the stats point to the end of the war by the end of the fall. A just war, not just oil. Just then Allah's shadow comes over the scene. He's here to stiffen his troops with some …
|
109810
|
Even when the sun is gone and things get dark, usually the moon comes to reflect some light of hope until a new dawn can emerge
|
109821
|
He and she are fucking while I watch. She's moaning deep desire and he's pounding flesh into flesh. I'm fully clothed, eyes attune to their fornication, studying. He comes inside of her; their bodies stiffen and then wriggle against one another. …
|
109885
|
|
109854
|
If you are a family member or friend of a person incarcerated in a correctional facility...
|
109874
|
I break your flesh
and make music
on the harp of your bones.
|
109843
|
I still see Big Mama leaning over her garden to pick a zinnia to put in her still life. Her old pink slip, hanging diagonally a foot under her hiked up, ragged, stained dress, half covered by her paint smock, which matched her white, faux fur, bedroom sli
|
109832
|
while you peed on that little old lady's begonias
|
109842
|
Great Uncle did stunts in silents and shot a man in a cowboy one-reeler, then vanished to the hills like Roy Earle in High Sierra.
|
109753
|
Magdalena followed the receding tide, her tiny feet leaving no rumors in the hard sand. She gathered only the most beautiful shells and presented them to her waiting Abuela. Her grandmother told her that the only things that a woman truly owns are her dreams. She told her…
|
109787
|
Reading at Menlo Park Senior Center,
old people falling asleep leaning to the left in their chairs,
all in the same direction.
|
109700
|
Alysia grabbed her luggage and rolled it behind her. Looking up at the sky, it was nighttime. She could see the crescent moon above, adding to the darkness.
|
109752
|
Once there was a man who wrote in code. He was comfortable among substitutions
|
109700
|
One cold winter's day she met what she thought was the love of her life. He had everything going for him but his age. You see the sweet young thing was a lot younger than her. One might say that she had lived many lives before he had been born.
|
