1562 4 4
|
I was so used to the silence of late summer afternoons, when I could roll my hoop through the empty, sunlit piazzas without meeting another shadow, that at first I mistook the footsteps for the beat of a metronome spilling through an open window.
|
156241
|
But tonight
while your finger
glides across
the glossy pages
of Popular Science
I hold a séance
for the Holy Spirit
in utter seriousness
among the book clutter
and crumpled manifestos
in the basement
|
156212
|
I was an alcoholic for ten years, starting in my early twenties and continuing into my thirties. Then finally, after many attempts, I got myself straightened out. My son's birth finally did it for me. It wasn't like a switch flipped in the delivery room…
|
1562119
|
When Chuck dies, I’ll throw/
a party and dance, a little drunk,/
across what I’ll pretend/
is the old shit’s grave.
|
156234
|
“That pool will be the death of me.”Which Dad said at least a couple of times a week. Ten times the week after he'd read the TXU bill.“Goddamn pump, and that twitchy little Polaris. We should fill that pool with dirt and plant some trees and Asian…
|
156122
|
Rogue sits bedside in Jello Biafra’s hospital room.
|
156100
|
The summer was announcing itself in thick waves of heat that rolled like a slow motion hurricane inside Mark Keeler's 1971 Mercury Montego. The car baked in a…
|
156163
|
By fiddling with the time space continuum and mixing in liberal quantities of quarks from his "Li'l Bang Dimensional Digester", Larry created an entirely new universe in his garage. This was a flagrant violation of Cosmic Law. It could not be ignored, nor
|
156131
|
angels give them names of important people, people under the control of evil demons whose influence must be negated at all cost if humanity is to survive into the future and achieve its ultimate potential.
|
156100
|
a dozen girls with Encarnación's face flit past, whispering kisses along the part of my hair, tickling their hems along the cuticles of my nails.
|
156166
|
The ability to "see the ball" is a gift.
|
156152
|
The night sky was washed gray by city lights.
|
1561139
|
Remember the equatorial heat, the flies,/
the lurking hum and scream of jungle,/
the squalor? Remember the functionary.
|
156162
|
She is trying to quit—nasty habit this smoking. Still, this is the only time she lets herself smoke these days: Laundry day.
|
156101
|
After you started drinking your meals and hating politics I wanted to climb inside, live in your stomach and dissolve. I wanted to make you see, hold you captive with arms stretched, pinned. listen again, swallow…
|
156193
|
This is me pitching a recently completed screenplay to a film producer at lunch the other day:
|
156151
|
They come in my room without knocking and I'm nekkid.
|
156120
|
He also had OCD. He had to kick every dog he met. Johnny killed a lot of dogs and was bitten by many others. He was a cruel bastard.
|
156184
|
We may think about so many things and thoughts about rain. We may think about where it is going, where it comes from.
|
156053
|
We write poetry, but are unable to calm ourselves. We need more men of the world (like you) who are not too much amazed by experience. Men who can lead a dual life. Who have sexuality but remain detached, whole. The bodily, the sensual, easy give and ta
|
156022
|
For two days his parents had been fighting, and they would tell him to tell the other one something every morning that was supposed to be some sort of slight at their personal failings, which had been inflamed by their twenty years of marriage.
|
156083
|
First of all, there was no snow. I seem to remember that. And there was no Christmas tree in the house.
|
156032
|
I am useless. A freak. Different. They all hate me now. All except you, of course. You will never leave me. Never. I'd kill them all if I could. Every single one. But twenty-four, that's a lot even for me. I'm so sick of the cliques; the special groups and hastily strung…
|
156000
|
You need only one who notices.
|
156064
|
Poetry is conceit; emotional, intellectual or technical.
|
156087
|
I always thought I would feel your hand, always, Lay with you as we flew higher together, laugh with You in the little spaces left between certain trees, like tiny blue flowers that only appear suddenly, made secretly Of…
|
156021
|
My father had a terrific argument with his wife, my stepmother, a flaming harridan with a voice like hydrochloric acid, and insisted on driving me back home to California.
|
156050
|
Flicking the cigarette into the river the man's face becomes soft, as if waving goodbye to the only real attachment that he has felt in decades.
|
155944
|
The young boy woke to the sound of laughter. He blinked himself out of deep sleep and allowed…
|
1559119
|
The commodore drives a 67 Caddy rag top
All fin and boatish power
|
