1362 0 0
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Early in the morning
I wanted to send you something
for when you wake;
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136264
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Poetry is conceit; emotional, intellectual or technical.
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1362116
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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, …
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136110
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[My baloney has a first name: it's Oh, Ess, Cee, Ay -- shit! I forget the rest! Can we start over?]
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136100
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I remember one time when we played strip poker in the basement of your house on Euclid Avenue, me, Terry, you and Andy. And I remember drinking lots of wine and fixing the deck so that you kept losing and having to take off all your clothes, and still you
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136164
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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
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136152
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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…
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1361117
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She had just done it in the backseat with the man she decided would be her father. Or maybe it was the cast of his eyes under the dim bar lights. Maybe she insisted that this had to be done, to relive the night under the stars, under a dented roof of a station…
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136134
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But what “is” retirement? All of the previous sections in a life are full of detailed descriptions. But “retirement” is somehow left rather vague. One would think that retirement would be the long-awaited GOAL of life. But instead we are left with the
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136141
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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
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136143
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Breathe a stench of Eton musk...
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13611310
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This time the bag's bigger/than the boy and the door.
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1361119
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A cheap pocket knife was the only sharp I carried in my backpack and they allowed me that. The man with the pot tattoo on his neck said, “All of us here needs some type of knife. You gotta cut up your food. We don't…
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136142
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He brought me flowers once, three wilted carnations I put in water, though the sight of them made me uneasy. He brought me pictures once, too, of three sisters—ten, twelve, fourteen—straddling dirt bikes. He touched my shoulder once, as I edited pictures …
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136111
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Shirley stubbed her cigarillo out on a dead chunk of honeycomb.
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136163
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I looked down at Earth and imagined this porn star who’d asked for my help.
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1361126
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136121
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I am exceeded / by a leaf
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13601011
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I fall in love with a second cousin at the picnic. I make sure I sit next to her.
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1360116
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Jane knew what to do
when she heard murmurs in the ceiling,
knew what to do when she struck out on the moor.
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136030
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Every town has one. Or one at the very least...
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1360109
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My student assistant was a comely young woman. A freckle faced blonde. She was from Ohio.
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1360101
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These are the three facts of my life.
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136095
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I never meant to shipwreck you,
I didn't even know I was singing out loud.
I just stood on my rock a little too boldly,
and hummed a tune you wanted to hear.
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136095
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Then I found myself in the water.
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13601510
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in which a man who is bored with years of retirement poses a threat to himself and others
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1360128
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We suffer//
the one agony only- of having no longer/
any physical effect nor way to speak/
of what we watch to those we watch.
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136055
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“If your work is good you will get published. Just keep at it."
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136064
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In a field of barley, I see you, ...
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136093
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Remembering his body makes me think of Egyptian cotton sheets dried in the sun. He smelled crisp and clean even after sweating hard. His hair fell in golden spirals down his cheeks, his back, over his forehead, and captured light just like the gilded halos on…
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