1382 8 5
|
—Jesus, that bastard has everyone in his pocket.
|
1382 12 6
|
|
1382 0 0
|
“I believe this is a case that is very much worth our time. Its probably the most important case thus far in your reign,” Henry said, “my lord.”
|
1381 1 0
|
Smiling, holding hands, Joe and Lara basked in the sunshine of the mid January day as they approached the diner. The temperature was warm enough for golf. Joe had played in far colder weather in spring and fall.
|
1381 0 0
|
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.
|
1381 8 6
|
It was your present world that seemed more than mad to me. Your polished stiff brown shoes that always squeaked like mice, while the latest rude Bombers bubbled up in their comfortable Dart-board garages like apple pies…
|
1381 6 5
|
I know someone in need of healing.
|
1381 10 5
|
Cultivate your vaginal tears
at the gates of Thigh and Holy.
|
1381 8 4
|
Suddenly something clicked.
|
1381 5 4
|
this is where we end --
the exorbitant eye of forgotten days.
|
1381 9 9
|
She said, "Tonight let's talk of things untrue and he said, ' Like black is white and night is day and up is down and in is out?' and she said, 'Yeah, those things we know to be false for sure like you know, like...well, you could say, 'I really love you' and I could say,…
|
1381 4 1
|
Miracles don’t happen to the poor.
|
1381 8 5
|
there's looks between the covers and shotguns in the drawer
|
1381 6 3
|
Whenever trees or limbs fell in isolate forests—well, no narrators were ever to be found, not even beneath the larger tree trunks or under the fallen limbs.
|
1381 5 3
|
And your daughter, Mrs. P, and your daughter Mrs. Q, underwater, underwater in the old swimming hole, in the backyard swimming pool. “They’ve all got children there.” La la.
Yet when I’m naked, when I enter with my own body the mirror, the small sha
|
1380 3 0
|
Every town has one. Or one at the very least...
|
1380 6 5
|
We were offered mannequins that had pubic hair that grew and swirled, and could visit like a pet, and sit in your lap
|
1380 3 2
|
today on the bus/ a man in his fifties/ smiled at a baby/
|
1380 10 10
|
I dreamt I was raped the other night. Sometimes it was me, that is, and sometimes it was another woman with a dark bouffant hair-do. Definitely outside though and the hulking back of the man was covered by a charcoal wool…
|
1380 1 0
|
What if
Everything
I have been doing
Hasn’t been heard
By anyone?
|
1380 6 5
|
|
1380 2 1
|
She heard the quick footsteps and knew where they were headed. Running down the hall she knew she “only had 1 hour left and there was no time to waste”.
|
1380 2 1
|
At eight o' clock: as, drawn by many bells, The patchwork congregation lopes and stalks, To churches far from serenade of shells To storms, we leave behind the windblown walks, And sails of youth, to glide through liquid hells, A temporal…
|
1380 5 5
|
“If your work is good you will get published. Just keep at it."
|
1380 6 1
|
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…
|
1380 5 2
|
If there was another way to describe emptiness, I'd word the endlessness of the sky, of the ocean at low tide.
|
1380 0 0
|
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.
|
1380 6 5
|
I left the train, still going nowhere, but in a hurry.
Still a boy, but trapped in a suit.
|
1380 0 0
|
Early in the morning
I wanted to send you something
for when you wake;
|
1380 7 6
|
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…
|