1505 8 7
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By the sixth - Dizz, Falstaff buzzed - Croons - The Wabash Cannonball
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150500
|
“She’s very sick. She’s dying,” and he smoothed my hair along my neck.
“It’s leukemia. A very rare type,” his hand reached my shoulder and stopped there.
“She only has a few months.”
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150500
|
My eyes don’t close but hers are shut tight, and something inside tells me that to this girl, I could be absolutely anyone.
|
1504105
|
an engine stalls out
in the parking lot
the driver
tears her skirt
coming through the door
|
150452
|
Once there was a man who wrote in code. He was comfortable among substitutions
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150401
|
She could see him doing these things but she could not hear him.
|
150410
|
I'm waiting for your voice. My trembling hand is so damp the phone could slip from my fragile grasp at any moment. Each ring burns in my ear and makes the washing machine in my stomach tumble faster and faster. After three rings, or it could be four, or forty, I hear…
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150464
|
In a field of barley, I see you, ...
|
150478
|
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 …
|
150442
|
The first and easiest reason was that he never hit me. Well, if he never hit me, then how could it possibly be abuse? Never mind the threats to stab me in the neck. He was only angry. He really didn't mean that. Never mind he restrained me, or cornered me
|
150464
|
She stiffens and blusters and roars
Not like a storm,
Not like a lion.
Like a badger, caught in the steel jaws of a trap.
|
15042512
|
|
150484
|
We may think about so many things and thoughts about rain. We may think about where it is going, where it comes from.
|
150460
|
The Star Trek marathon ends, and he flips channels. An episode of Full House is on. The cheesy plot lines and attractive women (specifically, DJ Tanner in the late seasons) have become a freakish comfort.
In today's episode, the Tanners are baby sitt
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1504108
|
He knows I talk to angels, what he would call angels. I don’t talk to him.
|
150343
|
Last night, in a tavern called Wits End, we dropped quarters into a console, sized and shaped like an old TV.
|
150355
|
I opened the closet door and there stood Eugène Ionesco lost among our clothes.
|
150344
|
Jenny was certain nobody saw her when she took the slinky shirt from her father's store. It was blue with buttons shaped like cherries, the fabric light as air. She balled it up in her hand. Her father owned a chain of boutiques called Body Electric. The racks were…
|
1503169
|
The blood is memorable/
as is the copper taste of that/
momentary certainty of lockjaw.
|
150321
|
Vietnam, Tet, and beaucoup Charlie
|
1503157
|
Her voice gets screechy as she talks of the boy he was caught fondling in the bathroom of a bowling alley. The worst part: the dumb schmuck doesn’t even bowl.
|
150341
|
To rival the professor in his knowledge of various body parts is impossible ...
|
150332
|
Mother told me that I would go to the moon. But she did not tell me that on Diwali night, the moon hid himself on the other side of the sky.
|
150311
|
The Bird King is trapped behind the mirrors. Sometimes you'll see a hand, a wing, fluttering in a dark space. You may even see his breath, a pulse of mist in a corner of the glass. But don't ever smash his silvered prison. Don't ever let him out and into the world.*****O…
|
150353
|
I'm gonna write about this after...It'll either be a tale of pain or pleasure hopefully the latterI don't understand how this workswhy sometimes I want to hide from myself other times I can just give in, fully,and everything isohsoheightenedI want it to be beautifuland…
|
150221
|
The Gropers of Prague were there, all around us, in spirit if not in fact. Was it KGB? Was it a ghost from my past? Or my own hand?
Stop guessing. It was Einstein himself. The KGB had taken him into custody somehow, though by what authority? All the
|
150264
|
They made posters and hung them everywhere. With the passing days she became the photograph at its center: hair always in the same ponytail; always with the same smile
|
150265
|
I know someone in need of healing.
|
150250
|
"And then I, and I believe,
I alone, saw
this small child
run..."
|
15021312
|
My wife, Sheila, inadvertently clicked my e-mail address, too, when she sent her reply back to him and I read her poet friend's message that her love opened the window of his heart and she replied that his words were knocks that opened the door to her being, then I stood…
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