1477 6 2
|
She is trying to quit—nasty habit this smoking. Still, this is the only time she lets herself smoke these days: Laundry day.
|
147740
|
I await, here at Sandymount Strand / There's a stony bed and moistened sand / Couples dance away into futurity /
With their dogs upon the shore
|
147764
|
... he could feel the pointed picket spears.
|
147764
|
Poetry is conceit; emotional, intellectual or technical.
|
1477129
|
Who owns the moon? What title search/
could ever make a claim?
|
147700
|
my second language / to silence / plainsong of / the breast
|
147740
|
We all stared, somewhat shocked and mostly disgusted.
|
147600
|
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,....
|
147644
|
The woman lit a cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. She took a long drag, tilted her head back, paused. Her eyes flicked to the NO…
|
147676
|
I almost caught a poet today.
|
147662
|
We cannot cross the river until it freezes. Bekker predicts January. For food we gather leaves, berries and roots from the thick forest behind the cabin. Suarez boils what we find into a revolting paste that we spoon into our mouths with dirty fingers.
|
147633
|
Welcome the one and the all of you, welcome all you scraggly long haired weeds, welcome the no longer rolling stones of the new you, welcome you most beautiful little wonderfully…
|
147610
|
I'm waiting for your voice. My trembling hand is so damp the phone could slip from my fragile grasp at any moment. Each ring burns in my ear and makes the washing machine in my stomach tumble faster and faster. After three rings, or it could be four, or forty, I hear…
|
147600
|
Sora and Ciel stood before Dean Morden inside his office. It felt weird to the girls looking at him sitting behind Madam Mayweather’s desk
|
147600
|
The rocking chair will bite your toes.
|
147622
|
“Oh yeah?" I said to Stendhal. "I found six references to women's eyebrows in Travels in the South of France. That's all you think about!”
|
147644
|
We'll all face the raging river, some sooner than others.
|
147600
|
Won't speak a word against 'em. Car trunk stunk like bad chicken long after, but I won't speak a word against 'em.
|
147694
|
happily fling Molotov cocktails//
against ICE agents in armored vehicles/
and sing the pain of their burning deaths/
as triumph against asininity.
|
147685
|
|
147674
|
|
147698
|
I don't think you understand. A sad boy doesn't just die inside, slowly, he becomes withdrawn from certain types of lovely youthful reasoning out loud, accustomed to feeling what is expected, graded, just to be allowed to survive another…
|
147644
|
I slide my CD toward Eric Burdon who sits, smiling and gracious and fatigued from Seattle traffic, at the table at Silver Platters, where I have just purchased ‘Til Your River Runs Dry, and stood in a line of old gray heads to have him sign it. I remove my hat and…
|
147621
|
"That zit on your forehead just won't go away, will it, sweetie?" she adds as she brushes her daughter's bangs downward.
|
147543
|
Philosophy: a muscular exercise of throat, jaw, tongue, and brain.
|
1475107
|
Nik Wallenda was going to walk a wire stretched from Sarasota Bay across US 41 to a condo on Gulf Stream Drive.
|
147521
|
It was a strange mood, unfamiliar, not one of her usual “I'm busy wrestling with my personal demons” type of moods. She'd been steeped in it all day and I, like a shipwrecked victim reaching out for any piece of flotsam…
|
147500
|
|
147531
|
|
1475116
|
Five evangelists in bathing suits
baptize a man
while green chilies
roast on a Ferris wheel rotisserie
|
