1366 8 7
|
Pale like a tracing of a memory
|
136611
|
an elongating boy with butter-yellow flecks in his eyes, and skin patched like a tabby.
|
1366139
|
Those who don’t die, desire, descend. No song aloft arises from my irk. The seeing chieftain, not of sea, nor sand, nor boat, I till nightfall stammer alive, dig boneless trenches against tiding dregs and lathe, hunt, wallow, plow the hours, call in awei
|
136673
|
edge of wolf howls and howls past sunflowers and skeletons
|
136677
|
I remember the first & only time I parachuted it was 1964 my 16th birthday a rite of passage if you will from the old man an aerospace engineer & former WWII B24 bomber pilot I practice-jumped from oil barrels taught how to fall back then when the time came…
|
136642
|
Blankets were always her undoing.
|
136656
|
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.
|
136632
|
I advertised in the local paper for a model.
|
136654
|
I am i said pursued by the feeling of being watched.You are she said -- by yourself. As in a dream, a dream you know you're dreaming. Which changes nothing.We are she said watching from the mezzanine, half-above, at once a part and apart.
|
136564
|
just before my break,/ he came on the line,/ old and slow with computers now/ but wanting a discount/ he'd been told he qualified for.
|
1365105
|
an engine stalls out
in the parking lot
the driver
tears her skirt
coming through the door
|
136501
|
Galloping people, tangled in ballets of hot love, weaving in and out, making a canvas of it.
|
136576
|
I almost caught a poet today.
|
136510
|
My name is Jeremy, and I am in love with a zombie.
|
136557
|
It is claimed we choose/
conditions of our servitude.
|
136540
|
like old discarded snake skin,
dry and coarse after the bite...
immortally tortured by broken glass bottles.
|
1365118
|
|
136594
|
happily fling Molotov cocktails//
against ICE agents in armored vehicles/
and sing the pain of their burning deaths/
as triumph against asininity.
|
136531
|
'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.…
|
136550
|
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 …
|
136501
|
“Hi, I'm Mike, and I don't wanna work ... Wanna play foos?”
|
136453
|
Magdalena followed the receding tide, her tiny feet leaving no rumors in the hard sand. She gathered only the most beautiful shells and presented them to her waiting Abuela. Her grandmother told her that the only things that a woman truly owns are her dreams. She told her…
|
1364112
|
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,
|
136455
|
When he leans back from the telescope through which he had been looking, he sports a derby and a Hercule Poirot moustache.
|
136466
|
It’s Independence Day. But I’m not feeling independent.
|
136444
|
Robert Frost told me that life goes on, but that’s just not good enough for me and for God’s sake it shouldn’t be good enough for you either, should it?
|
13641610
|
|
136455
|
I opened the closet door and there stood Eugène Ionesco lost among our clothes.
|
13641312
|
My wife, Sheila, inadvertently clicked my e-mail address, too, when she sent her reply back to him and I read her poet friend's message that her love opened the window of his heart and she replied that his words were knocks that opened the door to her being, then I stood…
|
136400
|
The eyelid of the sink blinks silence. The clocks choke on smoke.
|
