1489 3 1
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Though his heart aches
his melody seems to flow
It creeps into the dreams
of all in slumber in the valley below
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148900
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We named her Big Cat—I don’t know why. Maybe because she was already grown when we got her, unlike the kittens we’d seen in the pet store window that Dad wouldn’t let us have.
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148911
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Shirley stubbed her cigarillo out on a dead chunk of honeycomb.
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148822
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We all tell them/even when our mothers
warned us only the Devil/tells stories
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1488105
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The washing machine at home was broken. It was an old leaky Maytag. A discouraging mess—twisted panties, sky-blue jeans, and an old lover or two or three floating downstream (the reverse of spawning salmon). Each man was slightly drowned,…
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148894
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Because you alone must know how to make a smile shine at me and be like the sun, I can only feel its warm and coolish colors becoming that perfectly deepened yellow then on to the red if you please that makes a shy kind of blue out of day. That…
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148811
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Summer bakes the metal playground slide to ripples. Still, kids line up. Sadists, all of them. Lucky enough to choose pain. Max feels it every breath, unwanted.
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148843
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It was a wake-up call. A sign that I needed to stop and ask if I was making wise and sensible life choices.
My iPod was full.
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1488119
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The commodore drives a 67 Caddy rag top
All fin and boatish power
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148853
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Into the bowl I put Tales from the Crypt, The Far Side and an episode of Numbers. Wisked for a moment, then let the dough rise.
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148864
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You’ll say you should have known. You’ll blame my music.
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148876
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I almost caught a poet today.
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148876
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All these poets with their wrinkled hands full of freshly poured over poems are driving me into the dried wheat fields like a black block of crows. Offering a collectable cigarette, they light the damned thing with another hand-rolled poem,…
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148843
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I wrote this paragraph (the first in a series of 14 paragraphs) shortly after Frank Sinatra had died and during my last visit to my boyfriend, M. He had not seen me write something in years.
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148800
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The cubs from every Clan shivered at his snarl. The Elder’s presence was overwhelming, and level of pressure pressing down upon them.
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148821
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The sun becomes hot. She removes her skirt. She is left with a black bodice, with white laces, leggings underneath and a pair of twelve hole Doc Martens.
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148821
|
if you don't quiver with anticipation you'll barely manage to explode
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1488118
|
They could occupy the space//
left by creatures larger and more/
evolved.
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148831
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It was more than just taste/
more than a point of view/
and oil and pigment/
that painted a store front church/
a box with a cross in a vacant lot/
that welcomed desperation, faith/
and imagination.
|
148873
|
The countdown is on and daily the propaganda gets more and more aggravating It appears at times that the news media dictate and orchestrate more that just report on events of diplomatic shock. A huge effort has gone in to covering this coming war and it…
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1488119
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When Chuck dies, I’ll throw/
a party and dance, a little drunk,/
across what I’ll pretend/
is the old shit’s grave.
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148821
|
This is how she does it:
Forward………… ...Reverse..........…….....Forward..........……...Reverse
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148821
|
I am exceeded / by a leaf
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148755
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and pressed an area
on my forehead
between my eyes
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148721
|
Up top, the sky is like a fist fight-
fat lip purple and bitchslap pinks get wilder as the tabs kick in.
Those hovering lights are aliens!
we assert with insistent like-mindedness
from where we sit directly beneath the airport flight path.
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148700
|
Licking my wounds.
That's what my mother calls it. I'm not really sure what that means or if it's true. Sure, losing your boyfriend, apartment and job in a matter of months can drive someone to do something impulsive. Something crazy. But I've always b
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148700
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148732
|
Lama’s mother is dead. She died when Lama was just outgrowing her ballet tutus. When Lama talks about it, it is with the air of one who picks honeysuckle over jasmine. It gives sunshine, she says, to graves. Our epitaphs are so mechanical otherwise.
Un
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148783
|
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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148665
|
Certain disorders lend themselves to poetics.
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