1396 10 7
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Dreams / of being a millionaire are replaced by dreams / of being a billionaire
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139642
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The convalescent home's common areas are surprisingly well-appointed, given the neighborhood, which makes his actual living quarters that much more dismaying. Poorly lit, dusty, stifling, the room reeks of socks worn for weeks on end. My nostrils burn, and my eyes…
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139611
|
Maybe our whole generation is going to hell, but I’m not getting any younger or better looking. Life’s too short for the missionary position.
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1396109
|
I don't need to be toldhow natural you are, not here.I'm reminded every singletime I open my eyes.What I want to know iswhere have you gone? Whyhas it taken you so verylong to return? But Iknow the answer. You aresomewhere fighting for your dearlife. It's what we all do--in…
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1396108
|
“I have a theory,” she said on their first date, which was at an Indian restaurant where the music was a lovely singsong but the chef seemed enraged as he clapped a ball of dough between his hands, then threw it into the flames. And her date, whom she…
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139644
|
Lying on a high seat in the south study, this is what I see:
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13961811
|
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139676
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Now, this boy removed his socks in front of me, on the chair beside my desk where I read my books, and said: “My toenails aren’t shaped properly.”
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139611
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Chromio citrio sticky-floored furio...
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139611
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My grief is made up of
Demons fighting to
Claw their way first
Out of my eyes
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139654
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Swatches of Chinese silk in vivid red and lavender fly through the air. My granddaughter in her mid-thirties reaches for the cloth. I see in her mirror a shape forming; a slim, gray haired woman with a spring in her step. I pause to admire my reflection and pass over the…
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139512
|
You gave me everything, delivered with a hungry mouth. Tease.All taken away, erasedby a few words.Lips that poured forth and lips that took insharp, electric pleasures.Now withdrawn, thin, petulant.Not satisfied,you crushed my sanctuary.with so…
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139541
|
This poem first appeared in “Walt’s Corner” of The Long Islander, founded by Walt Whitman in 1838.
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139595
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"I wanted to see cities whose names sounded like sad sighs...Oaxaca, Guanajuato, Reynosa, Camargo..."
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139555
|
On the coldest day of the year, the weather man walks back from the measurement booth across a snowed-over plain, solid as cement and tinted with the pale yellow glow of the northern lights.
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139533
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“Sandy likes the way Bob spanks, when he’s done she gives him thanks."
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139521
|
if you don't quiver with anticipation you'll barely manage to explode
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139500
|
The rocking chair will bite your toes.
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139587
|
There's something in the space youare tonight that's for me asweet presence in my own life,and so like any othercoward I write a poemin vain. It will never beseen as itself by you, butpossibly be mistakenfor an open window. Somewill definitely call itfurniture, some will…
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139562
|
I was, so I was told, the product of much hard work and a lot of invasive procedures. Initially, I'm sure my parents were making love, but then came the slog, the repeated failed attempts at getting one of mother's millions of eggs fertilized. Those tadpoles just couldn't…
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139575
|
And right there beside me
That single wobbling
Snail-like trail of my heavy
French Horn case
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139574
|
The world is slick as alabaster, taking the guesswork out of the rain. Junction Road moves like thick grease under the tires of my '89 Skyhawk. The old car's making a clicking noise somewhere underneath the high-beam switch and the damn…
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139500
|
Mayumi faced forward, channeled her Mana, and gathered a small pocket of air under hand. Soon the voice returned, rattling her mind.
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139531
|
We all know that sometimes miracles happen and sometimes they don't. Some days are good and some days go by slowly as the fatigue sets in and he realizes that he is fighting cancer.
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139564
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It was 6 a.m. when the phone next to the bed awakened Francesco.
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139511
|
- Never in pain and distance -
Frown on these moments,
With bitterness and vain
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139521
|
Grady Quail wondered why God didn't just have another son
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139542
|
Dandelions wither as I approach and the grass dies under my feet.
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139583
|
A Beatles haircut and loose Khaki painters overalls rendered the child sexless. He or she walked over to Hugh’s side and standing tiptoe peered into the casket. She, for Hugh had determined it was a girl, stroked the silk lining.
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139510
|
“Eat more bugs,” said an old one.
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