1477 7 4
|
the stars might be the audience or they might not be
if the beat sits right next to me and hugs me nasty
|
147722
|
My Thursday head belonged to a former Miss Brazil named Rita.
|
147751
|
It’s as she reaches into the fridge for the carton of half-and-half with the grainy waxy photo of the little girl—Last Seen 10/2/06—that the memory surfaces:
“Hey. That’s mine.”
|
147664
|
I'd wear my pajamas too, fitting for the big sleep
|
147632
|
I used to be a poet, you know. /
Better, in many respects, than you.
|
147610
|
The doctors said, when she was born, that the gills would eventually fade away on their own. Nothing to fear, they said; no more unusual than the rare child born with a tail, or a dense pelt of fur, or a single sharp tooth jutting from its new pink gums.
|
1476102
|
|
147631
|
I will show you how, in the spring,
the sidewalks here
look like a crossword puzzle resting under
a glass of lemonade,
|
147676
|
Get comfortable with criticism
|
147622
|
Suddenly I'm not feeling it anymore. /
Poetry has become insufficient. /
I can't do it like I used to.
|
147643
|
leaves, starlings and other words fall into thickets of orange or green grasses or tendrils or snakes
|
147631
|
Sweaty feet, drool from the weighty sleep of mid-afternoon naps, the inescapable perspiration of the South: all combine to create the entwined scent of socks and stale toothbrushes...
|
147621
|
“Apollo twenty-two. Come in.”, the voice crackled through the speakers of the aircraft. There was only silence broken by a solitary meow and the slight whistle of oxygenated air through the ventilation system. “Captain Snuggles, now that you…
|
147642
|
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.
|
147642
|
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
|
147678
|
In and out of morphine dreams, he flies through the unfinished roof of Illinois sky. Below, matchbox-sized farm machines. A silo becomes his father's thermos, the silver-capped tower from which he stole sips at ten, his first secret. Back …
|
147621
|
Soon the world is on film that is burning.
|
147677
|
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…
|
147687
|
By the sixth - Dizz, Falstaff buzzed - Croons - The Wabash Cannonball
|
147621
|
He didn’t even have the energy to tell me to tie her up when he got home.
|
147632
|
Sebastian and Janice had been a natural match. They sought to deny this at first because a recovery assistance program was not a place to forge intimate relationships. It worked out wonderfully in Hollywood, but Hollywood, as everyone knew, was just a facade. So…
|
147642
|
I got to see me the other day.
|
147660
|
The Star Trek marathon ends, and he flips channels. An episode of Full House is on. The cheesy plot lines and attractive women (specifically, DJ Tanner in the late seasons) have become a freakish comfort.
In today's episode, the Tanners are baby sitt
|
147521
|
Sit down at night and stare into the fire. Consider if Cupid is just another liar.
|
147554
|
I got no good hubcaps
My van is up on bricks
It's held together with duct tape
And a couple of crummy sticks
I caught the guy who did this
And tied him to a tree
I kicked him in the windpipe
And kicked him in the knee
I'm a man witho
|
147552
|
Once there was a man who wrote in code. He was comfortable among substitutions
|
1475158
|
Go diddle in the sand//
to save some other sinner/
a death of stones.
|
147542
|
The convalescent home's common areas are surprisingly well-appointed, given the neighborhood, which makes his actual living quarters that much more dismaying. Poorly lit, dusty, stifling, the room reeks of socks worn for weeks on end. My nostrils burn, and my eyes…
|
14751610
|
|
147557
|
It is claimed we choose/
conditions of our servitude.
|
