1522 5 5
|
I'm not sure whetherI drink to numbthe pain or toactually feelsomething.
|
152100
|
This was the anniversary of the chairs. He would celebrate tonight for the chairs, and the chairs would welcome him.
|
152162
|
your light is gonna
last me
through the week
|
152186
|
and, once in a rare while,/
actual pearls.
|
152152
|
If there was another way to describe emptiness, I'd word the endlessness of the sky, of the ocean at low tide.
|
152121
|
Smiling at stones and chunks of earth pounding in...
|
152153
|
Before the railroad tracks are blown off by the wind, the wall tiles morph to trace 34th Streetwhile a silver balloon emerges from the end of the tunnel. A child’s hand reaches out for the gleam and she, the woman in a black-dress with a mandarin collar,
|
152142
|
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 …
|
152133
|
The leaves/
seek reunion with the ground//
and leave the oak tree naked/
in December’s cold.
|
152154
|
In December of 2003, Daniel Arredondo succumbed to his years long battle with colon cancer. If the name is unfamiliar, you're not alone. He did not answer to the name Daniel Arredondo. For most of his life, from seventeen years old to the end, in fact, he went by the name…
|
152134
|
Carl’s peculiarity of toilet paper rolls is not covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act – he’s looked it up.
|
152198
|
We can’t just bomb Berlin or Dresden,/
Nagasaki or Hanoi, to make things safe
|
152021
|
An excellent plan. Just like old times.
|
152044
|
|
1520158
|
We are the same shits/
we were in the Bronze Age
|
152010
|
Marcy was not herself today, her mother said when the school called. She was under the weather and she could not play with the other children. Marcy's mother began to suspect that her daughter was not herself very early on that day. Walking up the stairs Dolores…
|
152010
|
I’m not ready for football. I’m not ready for it, but I live in a southern town that worships at its altar more devoutly than those suicidal beauties in James Wright’s great poem.
|
152054
|
. . . how a body calls
in the dark. . .
|
152000
|
He then spent his walk home to his single apartment spitting up various textures of red, combinations of cherry and blood mostly.
|
152000
|
A life in NYC was one I always dreamed of but I found myself turning into a bitter, sarcastic person who was losing the ability to see the silver lining in just about anything.
|
15201817
|
The courts had scheduled the date long ago but the time, an hour always left to the warden, had yet to be decided.
|
1520179
|
let’s press our words into the clay/
in language so completely dead/
we have to re-imagine it.
|
152055
|
philanthropy corrugated with a smirk / printed aside every cardboard box and room / every cardboard house with every cardboard door.
|
152075
|
Cicadas shed their skin as they grow, leaving crisp hollowed out remains on tree trunks, fence posts, and the undersides of upturned leaves. Tommy and I would collect them in the early morning and stick them to our clothes like brooches. I used to like Tommy,…
|
1520117
|
|
152010
|
Sometimes, to be sad, you don't need tears.
|
152021
|
I hope you enjoyed the celebration last night. Good things always come to you. I thought your family would never go home. I didn't get to sleep this morning until 2:59, although I had set my alarm to 6:10. I didn't want you to miss your plane. At daybreak,…
|
152055
|
“Every word was once an animal.”--Emerson This circle has been Broken. The mother has Disappeared inside the wounds Of gunfire like an Eye drop. Who knows if Any of them left, crunched Down, whole into the…
|
152031
|
'Every raindrop sounds different.' says Barney. He's bouncing along beside his mother, twisting in her hand like warm milk. She looks down at his Big Bear hat and tugs. They wait together at the edge of the busy road. 'How do they sound?' 'Zzzing.…
|
152032
|
I didn't feel when you cut out my spine I'd been throwing up all night couldn't even smell the rust …
|
