1428 3 3
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The gate squeaked, the gravel shuffled and the letterbox clattered as February 14th's mail cascaded to the ground.
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1428158
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Go diddle in the sand//
to save some other sinner/
a death of stones.
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1428199
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One moustache hair at moustache level on a filmy bathroom mirror. A red velvet spread on a big round bed. Dear Ma: We saw a bearded lady.
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142821
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“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…
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142822
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The first days of October are ordinary in the way that milk just hours away from spoiling is ordinary milk. You can baptise your cornflakes with it, but part of you knows the whole thing is just shy of almost right.
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142885
|
In the diffuse light of early morning you wear a sweat suit maybe and stand in front of a model-kitchen counter in a model-home kitchen
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142832
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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…
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142843
|
The first time I ever held a gun, I was three years old...
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142834
|
But the restaurants put pig in every little dish. You couldn't eat there without encountering some portion of pig. It was in everything, including the cabbage. Who puts pig in the cabbage? I'm asking you. And in the dumplings too. For God's sake, give it
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142886
|
I wrote her a poem.She said, “I hate poetry.” I said, “OK, just read the words then."
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142811
|
There was no need to drive. She could travel ten miles in ten minutes. She merely had to be careful not to step on any cars or trucks.
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142800
|
“Well in opposite heaven every time you make scrambled eggs the shells break into a million pieces, then you spend eternity picking them out of the yolk.”
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1428116
|
Everything is bound to change like / a damsel to the tracks.
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142810
|
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
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142887
|
He disrobes; shoes, socks,
shirt, belt, pants. He smells of hard work.
The nude whisper of everything else.
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142754
|
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
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142794
|
These philosophic notions floated in my head for years and eventually helped inspire my pursuit of basic information in contemporary physics, astrophysics, astronomy, and cosmology when I was not reading or writing fiction or verse.
|
142731
|
I will show you how, in the spring,
the sidewalks here
look like a crossword puzzle resting under
a glass of lemonade,
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142741
|
This poem first appeared in “Walt’s Corner” of The Long Islander, founded by Walt Whitman in 1838.
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142700
|
The struggling creature opened its beak and let out a shrill cry before both parents moved in and, using their webbed feet, forced its head back under the surface.
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142776
|
Get comfortable with criticism
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14271711
|
Neither of us thought of real winning. We set about brilliant losing, dark angel forms of luck and greed, the desire, the craving, the need to lose so strenuous that one wins; we tied at thirteen.
|
142710
|
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…
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142761
|
I would like to go back (with spade, pick, soft bristles), and sift through time and layers, brush away the intervening years, and find: the tooth, knocked out by my then best friend, when we were seven, careening downhill in my father's wheelbarrow on Boscobel…
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142742
|
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
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142778
|
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 …
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1427134
|
So I've got this head in a jar and I'm not sure who it belongs to.
|
142721
|
Vietnam, Tet, and beaucoup Charlie
|
1427116
|
fanned lashes on rouged cheek
a glamorous sea creature
in violet perfume
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1427189
|
I want to tell you how the odor of the flowers/felt her funeral day
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