1507 4 2
|
they tried to trick the sun
|
150732
|
The voice on the other end mumbles, not forming words, but I understand: I am to be the starting third baseman for the Detroit Tigers.
|
150732
|
Boil (n.)––1. Pus-filled pustule inflammation of the skin, usually painful. 2. Slang boiled pus, bucket of (n. phrase)“Your asshole brain is a bucket of boiled pus.” (see also pus, SCOTTISH derogatory term for face.
|
150622
|
Ellen and I stepped out into the hall to discuss the situation. Maybe we should make some sort of offer to purchase these paintings, because if it did turn out that they were for real, well, the value could be endless. Think of it. Vladimir Lenin, the pai
|
15061010
|
I dreamt I was raped the other night. Sometimes it was me, that is, and sometimes it was another woman with a dark bouffant hair-do. Definitely outside though and the hulking back of the man was covered by a charcoal wool…
|
150652
|
He spoke the "Why" and it stuck out its tail. He tripped and fell with his face wedged between the W. She kept the answer in her chest so the words wouldn't crowd him where he lay. The "Why" found its way back into his cheeks and puffed his face out like a disease. He…
|
150601
|
On the street / The protesters stand / Yelling words empty as wind
|
150674
|
the stars might be the audience or they might not be
if the beat sits right next to me and hugs me nasty
|
150642
|
"Mama skipped the training bras and just gave me her old bras. I'll be 25 before I can wear her old bras..."
|
150675
|
... the CBO issued a concise and brilliant report demonstrating that the most cost-effective and permanent solution to the multiple problems presented by persistent poverty in the United States was the elimination of all those with prorated household or i
|
150664
|
Poetry is conceit; emotional, intellectual or technical.
|
150641
|
Describe my origami, the shape of a gun or a limp dick, or maybe a flower.
|
150611
|
Set your three-word story in prison.
|
150600
|
A tanka poem about Jolly Old Nick being black as hell.
|
150500
|
Mort’s hand-mind suffered electrifying-absence-emptiness; no wife.
|
150552
|
The cold and the ice’ve really stoked a fire in those old bones of his. He runs with the gait of a racer, front legs straight out—each extension producing a crack like Jack London spitting into the cold...
|
1505117
|
She had just done it in the backseat with the man she decided would be her father. Or maybe it was the cast of his eyes under the dim bar lights. Maybe she insisted that this had to be done, to relive the night under the stars, under a dented roof of a station…
|
150541
|
"I am lying on my back and am confused."
|
150521
|
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.
|
150510
|
Desire stirred into the liquid reveals
Cold ice smoking colder,
As you pipet these channels of my heart.
|
150576
|
Maybe it was a trick of the gloom.
|
150531
|
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.
|
150500
|
Aura arrives with the incense and her mysteries. Her scent of wet earth, and crushed flowers, a touch of Jasmine and Frankincense. Her dark hands passing over my body, her warmth. A whisper. A prayer.
|
150534
|
Ascent/Assent
Together the horizon/
Catechism of love
|
150510
|
Tiny was my daughter. Or what was left of her. A mucous-y chunk of what was once in my womb and then wasn’t.
|
150565
|
It sits up tall on its hind legs to take in all of whatever this is, big and bluer than the sky, death's own taxicab parked on its doorstep.
|
150521
|
I am exceeded / by a leaf
|
150455
|
and pressed an area
on my forehead
between my eyes
|
150412
|
Johnny Rocket is on the I-pad, sad, He says, “Game on, King me, the Queen” Always "it", he eats pork rinds like mad, “King him again” high on amphetamine.In his sleep, ants come up from the floor board to eat french fries, cola, their aorta…
|
150421
|
Ben was dreaming of sex with Claudia. But, in his dream, he could hear Dan Arris calling his name and pounding on a door. The fear of Dan Arris was pushing out the delights of Claudia.
|
