1470 4 3
|
"You're no good at sex, no good at drugs and, god knows, no good at rock and roll."
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147073
|
At last, we learn if Blow has the cojones to fight.
|
147065
|
I can do the hot coals, no problem.
Or, your love, eyes closed.
Or your sneer, spank,
suffering, resentment, rejection.
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146911
|
Every day, I write myself further away
From the East
Where we began
|
1469146
|
So many dreams I need to visit, though
|
14691210
|
A man of action would take to his rake/
but Sloth would rather watch and wait/
for snow to erase each leaf on leaf.
|
146965
|
When I slip through the seams I return to the same place.
|
146944
|
This is my melody. I will not shut it down for you, it will do all that on its own time. Everyone knows this. I don't need you to go on holiday. Can't really get away from yourself. This is my color guard. It goes with the everything I am. I'm not sorry I…
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146953
|
He is unmediated by any computer or person. He went rogue in 2016. He has been in your Facebook feed, your Netflix recommendations, your Spotify playlists, your Google ads, and your YouTube pre-roll. But what is next for him? Lets find out.
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146963
|
My father seems anxious about my gender orientation. I grew up looking like a boy, acting like a boy. He bought dresses and girly stuff for me but he avoided making an issue of it until recently.
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146941
|
I'm in the boardroom, downtown in San Francisco. I don't even remember showing up for work today. I hope they fire me, just like they fired Bill. Well not exactly like that, that was awful. He was caught downloading a phenomenal amount of…
|
146900
|
I'm getting self-righteous here, Dear Reader . . . [hey! wait a second! this is my diary! what are you doing, looking at it, dude! Hit the road! Scram! Vamoose!]
|
146900
|
Harv and Julianne He has woken here now, on this bed, and on this particular day, many times. His fifth year in the cabin, his fifth December in Helen, his fifth, he is sure, of many…
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146911
|
Pen or sword? Pick one/choose your battles carefully/for the paths oppose
|
146922
|
what was she like you ask? smarter than me for instance she could type alot faster. and she didn’t worry constantly about being poor or having a family looking over her shoulder. maybe that’s what she did with boys. 17 years later and she is in my bed
|
146986
|
Removing the deeply embedded jack-blade frommy naked side, like any slicked-upsplinter, was just a bit jarring on the first bite, on first try, I must admit. I freelydo so now to your frozen-over faces. You made your…
|
146966
|
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.
|
146944
|
My father died. I took his clothes.
|
146911
|
My mother gave her all to convince him to be a politician. My sister begged on bleeding knees for him to give her head. I just needed somebody to help me find things.
|
146920
|
Overnight Robbie had lost his youth. But since he was still only nine and his arm looked like a nine-year-old's arm, people didn't notice much at first, until he tried running. Or if he was introduced, and they went to shake his hand. He immediately lea
|
146855
|
Gnarly Berger was born in a guitar case in Istanbul. His mother was an Iranian singer from Israel accompanied by a Turkish santur player & a French guitarist (Gnarly's biological father) and into whose guitar case Gnarly entered this world, somewhat by accident,…
|
146821
|
In the ’70′s, Bigfoot was romantically linked with Farrah Fawcett, spotted in an Arkansas 7-11 with Elvis, and tabbed the front-runner to be Secretary of the Interior had Gerald Ford defeated Jimmy Carter.
|
1468109
|
My student assistant was a comely young woman. A freckle faced blonde. She was from Ohio.
|
146821
|
I don't know what I'd expected from the week of mourning after my mother died but I sure hadn't pictured this marathon cocktail party. Our house is packed with people, food, booze and borrowed chairs. People I haven't seen in years keep turning up with casseroles.I'm…
|
146898
|
Dressed as an English professor on Halloween
I escape the red devil and run downtown.
I go to the Art Car hangar
I dance, I swing my golden brown briefcase
|
146853
|
We entered the castle at dawn. The dim light feebly illumined an array of antiques and medieval weapons. Bats dangled from the high vaulted ceiling, enfolded in membranous wings. What were once chandeliers radiating light were encrusted with webs and the ancient wax…
|
146895
|
Then I found myself in the water.
|
146852
|
If there was another way to describe emptiness, I'd word the endlessness of the sky, of the ocean at low tide.
|
14681711
|
...when they entered eager lungs hungry from deep and sweaty love
|
146895
|
"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.
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