1346 8 4
|
. . . with reference to the Compass of Discourse
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134694
|
Take no form or face beautiful enough to cause warfare, or that which would provoke inanimate objects to song. If a tree wishes to flower in your presence, request that this happen very slowly.
|
134521
|
In a mad tipsy leap you came up short and hard on the chipped stone counter Bruised and blue below the seams against the inside of your thigh. Your grand jeté a little too low, left you on the black floorboards Wincing in…
|
134510
|
in her bedroom, opening night of his solo show she is snapping her nylons to center the seam stretching from her toes to where the line disappears into the hem of her dress.
|
134555
|
"Give it to me I said, you dip! Fork it over!"
|
134555
|
and pressed an area
on my forehead
between my eyes
|
134543
|
They found your athymic neck/clipped like a bag of Skittles/and your lifeblood left a Rorschach test on the dash/in which they saw the future/and their own exits/(straight ahead and to the right).
|
134511
|
Ten-year-old Bobby Akins learned that a shotgun shell struck on its brass end with a hammer can indeed take out the left eye of an eight-year-old brother observing the proceedings close by.
|
1345108
|
like the Bible in / Mauritania, like a mouse in a vial of ammonia, / like a retired coal miner on vacation in the Alps
|
134532
|
I’m casing the place; my boyfriend Jimmy is about to bust in and rob the store.
|
134553
|
Oh my god - A plagiarizing pony - I know someone must have said that before
|
134541
|
I'm in the boardroom, downtown in San Francisco. I don't even remember showing up for work today. I hope they fire me, just like they fired Bill. Well not exactly like that, that was awful. He was caught downloading a phenomenal amount of…
|
134551
|
They come in my room without knocking and I'm nekkid.
|
134576
|
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.”
|
134532
|
It was the coward's way out, to commit suicide. And yet, one had to be brave to attempt it.
|
1345106
|
my hands splash in to
silver and suds
in attempts to rinse
blues caked in grease
away for a while
|
134400
|
Long ago, this painter Brussegem had hung the dark mantle of Outcast Artist” over his shoulders—and over his life, he formed a strict philosophy—Art and Only Art—and protected his solitude and artistry with all his moody might,....
|
134455
|
He’s more than a little pissed at all this eternal boulder rolling.
|
134462
|
INSTRUCTIONS: To all students, please address your index card: "To the Finder of this Balloon." Beneath that, write something that will encourage the finder to email you back. Then tape the index card to your balloon's string.Happy Ballooning! To the Finder…
|
134452
|
Have you ever seen a body of words give birth to a paragraph? I won't lie. It's a little gross. But quite moving. First there is the biology of reproduction. A blackbird living in an electric guitar, for instance, and its inexplicable urge to mate with an elephant.…
|
134465
|
When I slip through the seams I return to the same place.
|
1344138
|
He bought damaged and used sex dolls online.
|
134433
|
Amanda Palmer's explaining the eyebrow thing. An altercation with someone at Roadrunner, or maybe old boyfriend shit to burn— She's animated but he's losing signal, filling in the blanks himself. Whatever, it won't light at first, and then WHUMP and she…
|
134433
|
Tell me everything about yourself, if I could care, I can pretend, let me pretend.
|
134476
|
“Somebody told me you write books.”
|
134400
|
A life in NYC was one I always dreamed of but I found myself turning into a bitter, sarcastic person who was losing the ability to see the silver lining in just about anything.
|
134461
|
Why do I love you? The monster that you are?
I love you for revealing to me my strength
My determination, my will
My need to survive
I love you for showing me the gift that is living
|
134462
|
Speaking of stiff nipples, I heard you once wanted to become a painter, because of your fondness for nipples. Feeling like Gauguin and his little Polynesian women/girls, are we? So, you're going to try to out-paint God, are you, Mr. Sistine Chapel of the
|
134462
|
The laptop has ruined the sanctity of the library. And so I get up and go see Queen Jane.
|
134463
|
It is midnight in Utah, but I can’t tell. It always looks like midnight in a cave.
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