1367 15 8
|
i hear the boom boom boom
in the room room room
|
136742
|
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…
|
136751
|
you'd do him more of a favor to kill him, than place upon him the burden of such an abrupt change in travel plans.
|
136711
|
He roared back at her, shaking his empty gun in his right hand, waving his left hand in the air. “I am George Burnett, esquire, late of Balliol College, Oxford! I am a hunter, a killer of pigs! I do not fear you, bear; take the pig and be content!”
|
136754
|
They have their own homes to fill with bought and sold dreams. Their own babies to care for and feed. The world is big enough to have more layers than you can ever imagine. The lights will show you a way when you have turned too dark for your own…
|
136734
|
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
|
136741
|
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
|
136741
|
Zusman snored on the sofa as Motel gathered his belongings in the dark. He moved quietly as had become his custom in the mornings. Initially he had tried not to wake his nephew on his way to work in the…
|
136712
|
I was an alcoholic for ten years, starting in my early twenties and continuing into my thirties. Then finally, after many attempts, I got myself straightened out. My son's birth finally did it for me. It wasn't like a switch flipped in the delivery room…
|
136785
|
—Jesus, that bastard has everyone in his pocket.
|
1367116
|
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, …
|
136744
|
A rope is cleaner,
he explains with a straight face.
He's calmed by the visual.
|
136686
|
Our painter man was killed by a bunch of snotty kids who were making fun of him. A gun went off. What is a noodle to do? He wasn't sitting alone in his world, anymore. Where was his famous straw hat? His trusty pipe? He desperately needed to smoke…
|
1366109
|
My student assistant was a comely young woman. A freckle faced blonde. She was from Ohio.
|
136600
|
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…
|
136695
|
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.
|
136611
|
The dance draws deeper
whirling witches weaving rhymes
The fire spits fierce in the falling rain
soon the spell will spill from secret times
|
136600
|
We trade broken phrases of English, Arabic...
|
136621
|
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…
|
136661
|
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…
|
136675
|
This late November day there are too many leaves filling the yard.
|
136688
|
the brain plays impish tricks/
and entertains itself with avant garde/
home movies
|
1366109
|
...clash of gulls
wend upwards, disappearing into grey
night's high tide recedes
|
136695
|
"Possible candidates for reading to a crowd"
the subject line of the email to myself read.
You see, writing can be hard -
or writing can be easy.
But writing for a crowd you'll see is something else entirely.
|
1366117
|
You are a warm winter
Despite the presence of snow
|
136611
|
Shirley stubbed her cigarillo out on a dead chunk of honeycomb.
|
136553
|
It's 2am. The wind is moving at speed, whipping gently the tree branches, and their leaves rustle simultaneously to create a audible sound, like hands flipping through sheets of paper, or that feeling you get on your fingertips when going across a textured surface. I'm…
|
136500
|
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
|
136565
|
We were offered mannequins that had pubic hair that grew and swirled, and could visit like a pet, and sit in your lap
|
136564
|
In a field of barley, I see you, ...
|
