1451 5 3
|
Oh my god - A plagiarizing pony - I know someone must have said that before
|
145100
|
I was watching the bustling crowd below, sipping on a teacup full of Victory Gin when the scream, no a howl, cut through the murmuring of footsteps and telescreens.
|
1451128
|
Compartments trickle together/
in light diffuse and unreliable./
Fortify yourself against the day.
|
145187
|
He invited her in for a Martini and she graciously accepted.
|
145187
|
...coming into that bone yard, you just hang a right, go on past La Fontaine, and take a left a bit further on. Jimbo's right up in there.
|
145121
|
He and she are fucking while I watch. She's moaning deep desire and he's pounding flesh into flesh. I'm fully clothed, eyes attune to their fornication, studying. He comes inside of her; their bodies stiffen and then wriggle against one another. …
|
145111
|
Pen or sword? Pick one/choose your battles carefully/for the paths oppose
|
145142
|
I was in life, in my dream. I was feeling around underneath your clothing. My fingers were shining in the underwater afterlife of memory, searching for those lovely nipple-sized mollusks. I lived in a land somewhere between the past and the future. Now
|
145187
|
|
145165
|
I can do the hot coals, no problem.
Or, your love, eyes closed.
Or your sneer, spank,
suffering, resentment, rejection.
|
145153
|
“There is a fine line between love and hatred.” This was what his closest friend, Bob Sanders, had said to him many years ago. And it had finally and irrevocably proven to be so.
|
145011
|
This is 57% of middle America, I'm convinced: doomed.
|
145021
|
My eyes are wide open. I look like a graphic novel. My world is black and white. I’m poorly drawn. All sounds have an exclamation point.
|
145010
|
On Friday evenings they play Scrabble, a whole crowd of them. They use books to keep score, page numbers, instead of a long column of pencil scratches. They organize themselves into teams; the English majors all together, versus biology, history and horn players. She and he…
|
145052
|
Have you ever seen a body of words give birth to a paragraph? I won't lie. It's a little gross. But quite moving. First there is the biology of reproduction. A blackbird living in an electric guitar, for instance, and its inexplicable urge to mate with an elephant.…
|
1450118
|
We must sometimes see the world/
as the pale blue dot//
surrounded by brighter dots/
and that endless field of darkest dark.
|
145021
|
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…
|
145065
|
When I slip through the seams I return to the same place.
|
145032
|
We were talking in the dark in my room. He lay on a mattress on the floor. He came for a sleepover.
|
145086
|
At some point we all reach the end point/
of something. Something important/
if only to our fragile self esteem.
|
145032
|
A young boy, breathing heavily from running, stopped at her feet, barely able to speak,
|
145032
|
Being an uncredited bonus composition, written in the sublimest access of divine afflatus this poet believes his lyric verse has ever known. “In olden times, dark was not counted fair”: Those were the words, I think, of some old poet. …
|
145043
|
—Strip down to your shorts. Put on this gown, open to the rear.
|
144900
|
What do I understand?
What have I mastered or come to terms with?
|
144920
|
Ruth carries always a small bottle of nitroglycerin; and tissues, wads of tissues; two Tums (for calcium, she tells me)...
|
1449108
|
One day, my feet and hands got into an argument. My feet argued that they were superior because they were not only the foundation of my body, but the cause of its mobility. They were modest in size, yet supported and transported an entire body that towered over them.…
|
144998
|
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
|
144973
|
I experience a presence when walking through the forest . . .
|
144933
|
The idea of an infinite textual universe occurs in many places in the works of Jorge Luis Borges. The contexts and permutations of language, which others had held to be perhaps infinite (allowing themselves to use such an imprecise term), that…
|
144975
|
This late November day there are too many leaves filling the yard.
|
