1443 0 0
|
When He had built the Universe, there was no greater joy in putting it together. The angels themselves were perfect constructs of concept and design, embodiment of breathing principle over particle waves. They each had their purpose; each mortar or a supp
|
144310
|
What if
Everything
I have been doing
Hasn’t been heard
By anyone?
|
144322
|
Suddenly I'm not feeling it anymore. /
Poetry has become insufficient. /
I can't do it like I used to.
|
144321
|
I wonder if regular nonfashion clothes are out forever, if these kids will ever dress normally like, you know, Phil Donahue, again.
|
144332
|
Billy took acid and blatzed into a 7-11, holding his dick like he hoped the store guy would think the thing was an Uzi. The guy laughed his ass off, reached under the counter, and pulled out a .38…
|
144361
|
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
|
144363
|
It is midnight in Utah, but I can’t tell. It always looks like midnight in a cave.
|
144342
|
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
|
144332
|
I’m casing the place; my boyfriend Jimmy is about to bust in and rob the store.
|
144344
|
Lying on a high seat in the south study, this is what I see:
|
144375
|
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,…
|
144342
|
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…
|
14431212
|
That afternoon she met me in the lobby of my hotel and we simply smiled at each other in the elevator going up to my room where we sat on the couch for about three hours and told of our lives, of being apart, for so many years, then sensing our time was nearly used up, I…
|
144363
|
I looked down at Earth and imagined this porn star who’d asked for my help.
|
144356
|
Sometimes I think living in a house with so many rooms /
you can get lost just making your way to the fridge /
should be enough. I chastise myself for wanting more.
|
144255
|
and pressed an area
on my forehead
between my eyes
|
144244
|
|
144200
|
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.
|
144296
|
As I walked down to the Subway, I thought to myself that now, after the horror in Boston, everybody looks like a terrorist.
|
144222
|
My Thursday head belonged to a former Miss Brazil named Rita.
|
144298
|
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…
|
144242
|
I got to see me the other day.
|
144242
|
Better not hand me that iPhone. I'll look up every damned thing in it.
|
144200
|
“I believe this is a case that is very much worth our time. Its probably the most important case thus far in your reign,” Henry said, “my lord.”
|
144122
|
The light of day is screaming,
shook by the calls of howler monkeys,
their low roar hanging in the salt,
in the black sand riding the wind,
as Playa Negra outstretches its infinite arms.
|
144176
|
Get comfortable with criticism
|
1441126
|
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.
|
144100
|
|
144121
|
if you don't quiver with anticipation you'll barely manage to explode
|
144161
|
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…
|
