1373 0 0
|
Slipping into the Sydney Harbour Tunnel like a nocturnal creature fleeing the light, tears stream down my cheeks, spilling from my lips, the pain too great to care about self-preservation. Drunk still, hands clenched, I strain to focus on the world fading into a blur of…
|
137352
|
Have you ever seen a body of words give birth to a paragraph? I won't lie. It's a little gross. But quite moving. First there is the biology of reproduction. A blackbird living in an electric guitar, for instance, and its inexplicable urge to mate with an elephant.…
|
137364
|
The heart would have unnatural reverence, exalted, bursting with evil, rolling in sloth, if it did not at once reveal its innocence. I saw you again, on the morning of the sun. It was you, or your double, or a son you might have had. Your beautiful bloo
|
137352
|
At 11 pm, it is 87 degrees and I sit in front of the air conditioner, eating oatmeal. The oats aren't soft enough, but it is sugary and fills me. Outside, the city hovers at the edge of a brown out, people sweating hopelessly inside small boxes. In Utah, it was cold…
|
137355
|
"I was born very far from where I'm supposed to be. And so I'm on my way home."--Bob Dylan I don't owe you anything. If I'm a recluse what does it have to do with you? I have the right to be poor. Some things cannot be explained away by letters that…
|
137311
|
Sometimes you wait by the mailbox and he doesn't come. It doesn't come, the letter, the talisman from another world you've been waiting for, and you give up. You finally open…
|
137395
|
Then I found myself in the water.
|
137342
|
i saw a sign and it read A PERSON THAT IS MEAN TO THE WAITER IS A MEAN PERSON i thought of you with your high cheekbones, the sense of entitlement unparalleled, the superiority complex that hid much you had a gig and it had probably…
|
137366
|
I feel his hand on my face, feel it brush past my lips, and I taste my sister's blood.
|
137354
|
Uzma dashes up the stairs ahead of me . . .
|
137377
|
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…
|
137332
|
He painted a woman on them, identical to the woman that kneeled by his bed.
|
137320
|
“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.
|
137376
|
Here the three o'clock sun is an old patched up fellow, with a stained yellow beard, walking in a small crispy rain of brown leaves, looking at something that requires a bit of squinting no one else can see, on the far side of the softening…
|
137320
|
Now it's late. I am hanging upside down from a rope coiled around my crushed left ankle, the pain too sharp to be really felt, as the excess blood to my head makes my thoughts fuzzy. I am almost two meters from the rock face, thirty-five hundred meters above sea-level, the…
|
137385
|
—Jesus, that bastard has everyone in his pocket.
|
1373119
|
When Chuck dies, I’ll throw/
a party and dance, a little drunk,/
across what I’ll pretend/
is the old shit’s grave.
|
137334
|
“That pool will be the death of me.”Which Dad said at least a couple of times a week. Ten times the week after he'd read the TXU bill.“Goddamn pump, and that twitchy little Polaris. We should fill that pool with dirt and plant some trees and Asian…
|
137332
|
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.
|
137221
|
My eyes are wide open. I look like a graphic novel. My world is black and white. I’m poorly drawn. All sounds have an exclamation point.
|
137265
|
We were offered mannequins that had pubic hair that grew and swirled, and could visit like a pet, and sit in your lap
|
137233
|
Amanda Palmer's explaining the eyebrow thing. An altercation with someone at Roadrunner, or maybe old boyfriend shit to burn— She's animated but he's losing signal, filling in the blanks himself. Whatever, it won't light at first, and then WHUMP and she…
|
1372105
|
Cultivate your vaginal tears
at the gates of Thigh and Holy.
|
137286
|
At some point we all reach the end point/
of something. Something important/
if only to our fragile self esteem.
|
137231
|
I just amuse myself by buying old guns and refurbishing them in my basement as I listen to old Bohemian polkas on cassettes.
|
137200
|
I was watching the bustling crowd below, sipping on a teacup full of Victory Gin when the scream, no a howl, cut through the murmuring of footsteps and telescreens.
|
137200
|
You cannot go back, you cannot go home, you cannot cannot cannot…Only in memory is it possible to travel back in time. We all imagine it. We relive happy moments, sad moments, we exist, time exists and it passes. We cannot stop it.
|
137241
|
But tonight
while your finger
glides across
the glossy pages
of Popular Science
I hold a séance
for the Holy Spirit
in utter seriousness
among the book clutter
and crumpled manifestos
in the basement
|
137253
|
God’s hearing aid is missing
And apparently needs an enormous battery
But no one has the
heart to tell Him
because who wants to be
shouting at God?
|
137200
|
Early in the morning
I wanted to send you something
for when you wake;
|
