1446 5 6
|
at all altitudes and at all latitudes /
glaciers in furious melt: / both Greenland and Antarctica headed both /
to be ice-free isles adrift / and with shorter coastlines amidst higher seas.
|
1446146
|
|
144632
|
Sebastian and Janice had been a natural match. They sought to deny this at first because a recovery assistance program was not a place to forge intimate relationships. It worked out wonderfully in Hollywood, but Hollywood, as everyone knew, was just a facade. So…
|
144632
|
...the relatives didn't seem nearly as fucked up as she thought they would be considering...
|
1446115
|
Blue skies greet us as we exit the forest . . .
|
1446108
|
That TV you got me? Ruined. And the ionizer fan? Ruined too. All your clothes you left over here, all my work scrubs and weekend dresses too, soaked with that river stink water. I kept thinking bout all the dead creatures.
|
1446108
|
He knows I talk to angels, what he would call angels. I don’t talk to him.
|
1445112
|
The water lapped against the sides of the small boat, their rhythm all that I could think of. Sweltering rays beat down, frying my flesh, the insipid salty breeze that occasionally stirred my only relief from it. Gulls circled overhead, like white ravens,
|
144500
|
Online dating. Russian women. Beware.
|
144520
|
Meanwhile stars continue to surprise...
|
144554
|
this is where we end --
the exorbitant eye of forgotten days.
|
144564
|
your words that came crashing over me/
so cold the clear shock was like salt water
|
144520
|
I can’t deny you’re beautiful, though it’s unsure how many of your defects are fudged by my myopia.
|
144553
|
Oh my god - A plagiarizing pony - I know someone must have said that before
|
144533
|
Nearly everyone knows of that celebrated poet’s story coming down to us from classical Greek mythology: the tragic tale of Orpheus and his descent into the underworld to rescue his beloved Eurydice. Well, there’s a much lesser known story of a legendary 7
|
144500
|
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.
|
144553
|
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?
|
144500
|
Mayumi noticed everything moving in real time. Everyone just stared and a woman approached her to see if she was okay. Once Mayumi felt the woman’s hand touch her shoulder, her skin crawled and she ran.
|
144595
|
We got a sandwich at Mr. Pickle's, but they cut the sandwich in the plastic. Plastic wrap.
|
144521
|
She continued to cooperate with a city council agenda dominated by globalized privatization
|
144454
|
I got no good hubcaps
My van is up on bricks
It's held together with duct tape
And a couple of crummy sticks
I caught the guy who did this
And tied him to a tree
I kicked him in the windpipe
And kicked him in the knee
I'm a man witho
|
144400
|
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…
|
1444148
|
Even music relies on what/
you know as music/
for its power to enthrall.
|
144431
|
No excerpts for you. Next!
|
144442
|
The rain is filling up my shoes,
I can’t see
through my glasses,
Rain all inside me.
|
144457
|
It is claimed we choose/
conditions of our servitude.
|
144488
|
You've had some truly awful shit pumped into your brains for years at a time now. The practice started a long time ago. It's not always your fault. The only lasting way to get it out of your head is to go and figure out exactly where…
|
1444103
|
My sixth grade teacher used to tell us all the time about how being poor is nowhere near the same as living in poverty.
|
144421
|
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…
|
144462
|
Speaking of stiff nipples, I heard you once wanted to become a painter, because of your fondness for nipples. Feeling like Gauguin and his little Polynesian women/girls, are we? So, you're going to try to out-paint God, are you, Mr. Sistine Chapel of the
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