1453 4 4
|
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…
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145222
|
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.
|
145295
|
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.
|
145220
|
I can't believe it's Frankie, but there he is at a table on the far side, just in front of the big picture window. I hold the menu close to my face and peek again over the top, watching as he reaches under the white linen tablecloth to plant…
|
145242
|
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.
|
145232
|
I’m casing the place; my boyfriend Jimmy is about to bust in and rob the store.
|
145221
|
Vietnam, Tet, and beaucoup Charlie
|
145232
|
I didn't feel when you cut out my spine I'd been throwing up all night couldn't even smell the rust …
|
145251
|
1. Research how to locate and outline the chin of a toy terrier. Find a toy terrier, outline its chin, then count the hairs on said chin to determine the number of lines your poem will have.
|
145232
|
Boil (n.)––1. Pus-filled pustule inflammation of the skin, usually painful. 2. Slang boiled pus, bucket of (n. phrase)“Your asshole brain is a bucket of boiled pus.” (see also pus, SCOTTISH derogatory term for face.
|
14511011
|
I fall in love with a second cousin at the picnic. I make sure I sit next to her.
|
145162
|
INSTRUCTIONS: To all students, please address your index card: "To the Finder of this Balloon." Beneath that, write something that will encourage the finder to email you back. Then tape the index card to your balloon's string.Happy Ballooning! To the Finder…
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1451107
|
Dreams / of being a millionaire are replaced by dreams / of being a billionaire
|
1451102
|
|
145141
|
This poem first appeared in “Walt’s Corner” of The Long Islander, founded by Walt Whitman in 1838.
|
145186
|
It was your present world that seemed more than mad to me. Your polished stiff brown shoes that always squeaked like mice, while the latest rude Bombers bubbled up in their comfortable Dart-board garages like apple pies…
|
145110
|
What if
Everything
I have been doing
Hasn’t been heard
By anyone?
|
145140
|
Then it started extruding tendrils and tying them all into intricate knots.
|
1451103
|
’m sure they have their/
cleverest working on it, though.
|
145164
|
In a field of barley, I see you, ...
|
145132
|
Sirens wake me, screaming warnings in the dark.
|
145162
|
|
145150
|
Rumpelstiltskin cried
because you belong to me;
|
145175
|
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,…
|
145100
|
You need only one who notices.
|
145186
|
I wrote her a poem.She said, “I hate poetry.” I said, “OK, just read the words then."
|
145120
|
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.
|
145195
|
|
1451116
|
I suppose it was inevitable, This crashing of souls, This recognition of possibility to create. If we were younger, We would make a baby, The ultimate act of faith. Now it has to be something else, Nothing to force a track with night feedings, …
|
145110
|
It was an eagle in the waves
Those eyes make no mistake
Especially from a mile high
Blue fish and tuna
Too dumb to run
|
