1527 2 1
|
if you don't quiver with anticipation you'll barely manage to explode
|
152721
|
I think we could be twins, our hands hitching us together like paper dolls, our parkas making blobby round balloon shapes as outlines for our bodies. I imagine each of us holding onto someone else, and the line continuing on from there until we have a cha
|
152731
|
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.
|
1527109
|
...clash of gulls
wend upwards, disappearing into grey
night's high tide recedes
|
152720
|
“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.
|
152775
|
... 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
|
1527129
|
Enumerate the small delights/ this bright first morning
|
152786
|
I wrote her a poem.She said, “I hate poetry.” I said, “OK, just read the words then."
|
152787
|
The winter’s too warm for the bears to sleep,
and they get up in the middle of the night
with insomnia and wander about the streets
in their pajamas, knocking over garbage cans,
looking for a midnight snack of some kind.
They’re getting kind o
|
1527106
|
The dictator, what'sisface, was crazy nuts.
|
1527104
|
Every day, a fresh new/
strain of Hell reveals itself
|
152731
|
Sheep are very philosophical, I hear. Stop this hopeless dreaming.
|
152643
|
They found your athymic neck/clipped like a bag of Skittles/and your lifeblood left a Rorschach test on the dash/in which they saw the future/and their own exits/(straight ahead and to the right).
|
152610
|
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…
|
152611
|
Summer bakes the metal playground slide to ripples. Still, kids line up. Sadists, all of them. Lucky enough to choose pain. Max feels it every breath, unwanted.
|
1526102
|
|
152610
|
The parrots woke Eddie up. That and Rocker snoring in the twin bed. A thousand parrots flying over the motel? They squawked, God how they…
|
152600
|
Oh, you aren't going to lecture us, for heaven's sake?
|
152600
|
mis-placed
the change
she goes looking for.
her folks
missed another hour...
her worth-while spent wasting
the voice wouldn’t leave the leaves alone.
|
152610
|
Desire stirred into the liquid reveals
Cold ice smoking colder,
As you pipet these channels of my heart.
|
152632
|
I am useless. A freak. Different. They all hate me now. All except you, of course. You will never leave me. Never. I'd kill them all if I could. Every single one. But twenty-four, that's a lot even for me. I'm so sick of the cliques; the special groups and hastily strung…
|
152622
|
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.
|
152642
|
I got to see me the other day.
|
152640
|
We all stared, somewhat shocked and mostly disgusted.
|
15251011
|
I fall in love with a second cousin at the picnic. I make sure I sit next to her.
|
152564
|
I'd wear my pajamas too, fitting for the big sleep
|
152522
|
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
|
152555
|
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…
|
152555
|
I opened the closet door and there stood Eugène Ionesco lost among our clothes.
|
152555
|
There’s someone in the audience who is immolating himself
Cutting his own leg over and over with a pen knife
And groaning: “Oh God, oh God”
And all I can think from up at the podium is
This guy must absolutely hate these poems
I am reading
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