1448 5 5
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On the coldest day of the year, the weather man walks back from the measurement booth across a snowed-over plain, solid as cement and tinted with the pale yellow glow of the northern lights.
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144872
|
That streetcar named Desire, it don't hardly stop for me no more. Leastwise not while I'm awake, and I don't have to be telling no nosy aides why I make them noises in my sleep.
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144875
|
Cicadas shed their skin as they grow, leaving crisp hollowed out remains on tree trunks, fence posts, and the undersides of upturned leaves. Tommy and I would collect them in the early morning and stick them to our clothes like brooches. I used to like Tommy,…
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144842
|
In the mode of Swinburne's ‘Dolores':For the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster- A study of the notion of “Intelligent Design” Since the universe came into dawning, If e'er this bright universe did, Men ought to know better in…
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144701
|
She could see him doing these things but she could not hear him.
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1447107
|
Dreams / of being a millionaire are replaced by dreams / of being a billionaire
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1447102
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144794
|
When we are given eternity, as a night is eternal
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144700
|
Alysia’s eyes turned to Megumi where her sister nodded. Alysia took a deep breath and stepped back. There was a moment’s hesitation, but she felt Megumi’s hand gripping her wrist.
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144700
|
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.
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144755
|
“If your work is good you will get published. Just keep at it."
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144796
|
As I walked down to the Subway, I thought to myself that now, after the horror in Boston, everybody looks like a terrorist.
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144742
|
If this road could answer
I would ask her what it is like
to follow the path
of the rippleshimmery river
for too many miles
through the slowly ghosting towns
and the corncovered landscapes
of the dying Midwest
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1447157
|
Her voice gets screechy as she talks of the boy he was caught fondling in the bathroom of a bowling alley. The worst part: the dumb schmuck doesn’t even bowl.
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144722
|
My Thursday head belonged to a former Miss Brazil named Rita.
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144742
|
I got to see me the other day.
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144731
|
Sheep are very philosophical, I hear. Stop this hopeless dreaming.
|
144695
|
I recalled the one night stand I'd had with the girl one balmy summer night in Minneapolis. We lay on my bed in the moonlight, and I touched the nipples of her tiny breasts with the thumb and pinkie of one hand.
|
144644
|
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144641
|
This poem first appeared in “Walt’s Corner” of The Long Islander, founded by Walt Whitman in 1838.
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144644
|
On a street-lit night in Jeddah.
|
144610
|
What if
Everything
I have been doing
Hasn’t been heard
By anyone?
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1446126
|
Have you heard this yet? The daughter flew home to care for the mother, whose pump is still tick ticking—though now with aid—which means she leaves the kitchen when the microwave clicks on.
|
144666
|
With their brightly-colored bits of
found string
woven into the walls of their nests
to teach their baby birds
what the worms of the future
will look like.
Somewhat like the
cave paintings of Lascaux
for early man in France,
when hunti
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144661
|
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
|
144621
|
if you don't quiver with anticipation you'll barely manage to explode
|
144642
|
If white t-shirts are only an SPF of 8, she couldn’t even imagine what a white nylon-mesh umbrella on this godforsaken beach might be in terms of protection.
|
144663
|
It is midnight in Utah, but I can’t tell. It always looks like midnight in a cave.
|
144661
|
I would like to go back (with spade, pick, soft bristles), and sift through time and layers, brush away the intervening years, and find: the tooth, knocked out by my then best friend, when we were seven, careening downhill in my father's wheelbarrow on Boscobel…
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144632
|
I’m casing the place; my boyfriend Jimmy is about to bust in and rob the store.
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