1536 3 3
|
two pairs of arms and legs
|
153677
|
Harvey C. Hamby was drunk. Usually he held his liquor well, but tonight he was off his form. Stumbling over an ottoman, he landed on the floor in a sodden sprawl. As he fell, his left foot shot out behind him and socked Glenda Steinberg in…
|
153620
|
“I do not know if you can hear me, or if you can talk to me. Some people do not believe in people like you, you know, spirits, ghosts or whatever you are. I do. I know you are here because of what happened here.” I could not speak. I did not feel I could.
|
153620
|
Each had jostled and laboured for his or her place upon the blunt outcrop, in the cold persistent darkness, where the outcrop was merely something that had fallen and not quite been washed away.
|
153622
|
In the privacy of a booth?
|
153655
|
She thinks this is the place she dreamed
|
153631
|
Sheep are very philosophical, I hear. Stop this hopeless dreaming.
|
153565
|
Certain disorders lend themselves to poetics.
|
153510
|
Even before I tap on the door I know I am being watched with one eye. My footsteps have surely given me away. A swift tug on it reveals her to me—half of her, that is, and I slink past the threshold, to her. From her eyes I see that she has…
|
1535910
|
When the dark shadows of his limp eyes told us life was slowly seeping away, stolen by his stroke, his wife signed the “DO NOT RESUSCITATE” order and, tearfully leaving the room, she turns, asking a final question, “Think a needy family could use his…
|
153511
|
When flash and bang merge you are, according to the manual, in deep do-do.
|
153540
|
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
|
153510
|
Desire stirred into the liquid reveals
Cold ice smoking colder,
As you pipet these channels of my heart.
|
153501
|
On the street / The protesters stand / Yelling words empty as wind
|
1535103
|
Words are looking ever so strange today
like a hole in space
a wind in a cloud
a face superimposed over a mountain
|
153566
|
He thought she should have come with an owner’s manual
So he would know how to operate the equipment
It was definitely more than he bargained for
Or knew how to handle
She was too hot
|
1535106
|
The dictator, what'sisface, was crazy nuts.
|
153495
|
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.
|
153420
|
They think because you are a writer you are not much of a listener and so you begin to recognize all of the great opportunities to be much more of a listener and then you shut your trap and get sucked into the whorls of her big wet brown eyes with Italianate…
|
153410
|
On Friday evenings they play Scrabble, a whole crowd of them. They use books to keep score, page numbers, instead of a long column of pencil scratches. They organize themselves into teams; the English majors all together, versus biology, history and horn players. She and he…
|
153443
|
It was a wake-up call. A sign that I needed to stop and ask if I was making wise and sensible life choices.
My iPod was full.
|
153455
|
Style Shifts “Oh, yes, my cousin. We were rude boys until the armed gangs started to gather. Used to be we could pass a night driving, playing our songs, acting tough. Yeah. We'd mouth off, flash some teeth, spark some anger when we felt like it. We…
|
153452
|
We talk of his time in the jungle.
|
15342110
|
I approached him slowly. His voice was soft and raspy. He said, "Kneel down my son, I've been expecting you."
|
153400
|
The young man pulls out his wallet, grabs a couple of bills and stops short of handing them to the bedraggled man. “So how do I know you’re not going to go out and buy some crack with this money?”
|
153464
|
Poetry is conceit; emotional, intellectual or technical.
|
1534119
|
A cheap pocket knife was the only sharp I carried in my backpack and they allowed me that. The man with the pot tattoo on his neck said, “All of us here needs some type of knife. You gotta cut up your food. We don't…
|
153422
|
I want to be adored for something and chose poetry to be that something adored for. But Annie doesn’t see why anyone would ever choose anything over love.
|
153444
|
A rope is cleaner,
he explains with a straight face.
He's calmed by the visual.
|
153440
|
We all stared, somewhat shocked and mostly disgusted.
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