1559 4 2
|
Anatoly Gringovitch took a swallow of beer, thoughtfully put the cap on his Ferrari da Varese custom fountain pen, and launched into his story:
|
1559 5 2
|
Once there was a man who wrote in code. He was comfortable among substitutions
|
1559 2 1
|
Up top, the sky is like a fist fight-
fat lip purple and bitchslap pinks get wilder as the tabs kick in.
Those hovering lights are aliens!
we assert with insistent like-mindedness
from where we sit directly beneath the airport flight path.
|
1559 6 1
|
I'm not dying. What is it called if you think you might have Hypochondria but you really don't? I'm worried that's what I have. Is it cold in here? Or is it me, dying?
|
1559 5 4
|
this is where we end --
the exorbitant eye of forgotten days.
|
1559 4 0
|
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
|
1559 8 8
|
the brain plays impish tricks/
and entertains itself with avant garde/
home movies
|
1559 14 11
|
|
1559 5 6
|
at all altitudes and at all latitudes /
glaciers in furious melt: / both Greenland and Antarctica headed both /
to be ice-free isles adrift / and with shorter coastlines amidst higher seas.
|
1559 9 8
|
Regret takes the shape of little clouds ...
|
1559 1 0
|
[WARNING: DO NOT OPEN UNTIL 'R XMAS!]
|
1558 10 11
|
I fall in love with a second cousin at the picnic. I make sure I sit next to her.
|
1558 1 1
|
Behold! Passion fruit!Aureolin sun condensedRolls off palm and tongue.Spurn taut rounded skinWait for wrinklesRipeness revealed, resplendent —The pinnacle of worth.
|
1558 4 3
|
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).
|
1558 5 2
|
He spoke the "Why" and it stuck out its tail. He tripped and fell with his face wedged between the W. She kept the answer in her chest so the words wouldn't crowd him where he lay. The "Why" found its way back into his cheeks and puffed his face out like a disease. He…
|
1558 6 6
|
With their brightly-colored bits of
found string
woven into the walls of their nests
to teach their baby birds
what the worms of the future
will look like.
Somewhat like the
cave paintings of Lascaux
for early man in France,
when hunti
|
1558 0 0
|
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.
|
1558 1 0
|
Another noise, softer than the first: swish, thud. You are still. The house is very loud tonight.
|
1558 0 0
|
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?”
|
1558 6 3
|
It is midnight in Utah, but I can’t tell. It always looks like midnight in a cave.
|
1558 11 8
|
At the conference her boss showed off his knowledge of wines.
|
1558 2 1
|
I remember sitting there on the first unfinished rooftop, watching you building houses out of words. You hammered in grammar and punctuation; you said these things needed to be hammered in by hand. You drove the long straight exclamation …
|
1558 13 4
|
So I've got this head in a jar and I'm not sure who it belongs to.
|
1558 4 1
|
To rival the professor in his knowledge of various body parts is impossible ...
|
1558 4 3
|
Soon, out of the womb ‘down there' is nuance. It guides you, like a legality, like your own breathing, in and out of overtone, hardcore hodgepodges, those inklings near sacrosanct beyond breakfront negligees and neo-negligence leading the good life. Isn't it…
|
1557 2 2
|
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.
|
1557 5 2
|
The cold and the ice’ve really stoked a fire in those old bones of his. He runs with the gait of a racer, front legs straight out—each extension producing a crack like Jack London spitting into the cold...
|
1557 2 1
|
I don't know what I'd expected from the week of mourning after my mother died but I sure hadn't pictured this marathon cocktail party. Our house is packed with people, food, booze and borrowed chairs. People I haven't seen in years keep turning up with casseroles.I'm…
|
1557 9 10
|
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…
|
1557 0 0
|
Bruce Springsteen begins singing from the loud speaker he was bruised and battered and couldn’t tell what he felt.
|