1488 5 4
|
|
148843
|
leaves, starlings and other words fall into thickets of orange or green grasses or tendrils or snakes
|
148811
|
The dance draws deeper
whirling witches weaving rhymes
The fire spits fierce in the falling rain
soon the spell will spill from secret times
|
148831
|
My beloved lets me crawl into bed
and put my feet on him
since his skin is
warm and hot like a fire roaring from within
his soft flesh.
|
148810
|
Another noise, softer than the first: swish, thud. You are still. The house is very loud tonight.
|
148821
|
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…
|
1488124
|
It will always be this way/ won’t it, she said.
Me insecure, you unfaithful
|
148862
|
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
|
14883118
|
... “All power is just behind your belly. Look. Knot of belt – just in front of navel – navel is eye of chi.” ...
|
148842
|
If this road could answer
I would ask her what it is like
to follow the path
of the rippleshimmery river
for too many miles
through the slowly ghosting towns
and the corncovered landscapes
of the dying Midwest
|
148822
|
|
148800
|
Mayumi ran. She ran fast as if her life depended on it. She never looked back. She did not care about her friends. Mayumi just wanted to escape that world more than ever, but she did not get far.
|
148844
|
Have you ever seen anyone die? It will alter your life. Because you suddenly realize that anxiety was worth something after all, and was a coin of the human condition, imprinted with hectic symbols, some of which resemble cypress, others more like Frankenstein:…
|
148876
|
|
148853
|
He looked like a black paper doorway pasted onto a painting of summer.
|
148864
|
I woke up to the humming
of an empty space in the shape of a sweatshirt,
|
148866
|
And here’s a picture of you
at the end of the line
to the great toilet of
fiction, waiting to
relieve yourself, quick
before the poetry gets to you.
Or worse, the actual
poets.
|
148811
|
Andrew had learned the art of being a chameleon at school where his school uniform provided an exoskeleton. Beneath was no costume, just the fragile skin of adolescent ego.
|
148721
|
Anatoly Gringovitch sat in the police car returning him to the Opera House.
|
148732
|
So do you read my writing?I text youI need to know whatyou like betterThe bloodor the gutsThat's what it is.You see Iput it out therefor you.That's not what it saysbut I know the truth.Am I smart enoughgood enoughdo you think it's crapbecause anyone can like it…
|
1487125
|
Monday will come soon enough to get/
what needs to be done, done.
|
1487128
|
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.
|
148786
|
I'm working through the rocky pine cones so you don't have to. I'm stepping over the little dreaming people in your dreams so we don't wake them with our loud and coming loose footprints. The poem passes by like a heartbreaking train…
|
148754
|
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…
|
148721
|
—Can you handle a threesome? said Isabella.
|
148731
|
We all know that sometimes miracles happen and sometimes they don't. Some days are good and some days go by slowly as the fatigue sets in and he realizes that he is fighting cancer.
|
148786
|
Said do you feel it when you touch me?
|
148750
|
Condensation on the Glass Riding down 22, I'm looking out the window. Time is a whirlwind. Your memory relinquishes itself, yellowed and fraying at the edges. It's raining and cold. I make a smiley face in the condensation …
|
148742
|
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 …
|
148720
|
He draped the sheet over her body. Blood spotted the fabric, rose petals on snow.He left the pistol, but pocketed the first edition she'd signed. Part of his fee.In the park, he ditched the glasses, fake mustache, and anorak before making the call.The publisher called an…
|
