1479 0 1
|
Galloping people, tangled in ballets of hot love, weaving in and out, making a canvas of it.
|
147944
|
The young boy woke to the sound of laughter. He blinked himself out of deep sleep and allowed…
|
147952
|
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.…
|
147942
|
The rain is filling up my shoes,
I can’t see
through my glasses,
Rain all inside me.
|
147910
|
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.
|
147900
|
We trade broken phrases of English, Arabic...
|
147921
|
He stood in front of her. They stood eye to eye. "You aren't supposed to look me in the eye. If I were anyone else you would be smacked down on the ground right now. Treat me as you would a lover, your master."
|
147922
|
If she was still breathing, Tom promised himself he would let her live, but right then his shoulder ached and his right hand was throbbing.
|
147999
|
It’s layer VII we adore/
and mourn
|
1479117
|
|
147933
|
I reach out and grab a can of soup with each hand and spin them around to dive into this much-heralded sodium situation. It's a landslide. I almost smile as I put low sodium back and continue to hold tightly onto regular.
|
147942
|
In the mode of Swinburne's ‘Dolores':For the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster- A study of the notion of “Intelligent Design” Since the universe came into dawning, If e'er this bright universe did, Men ought to know better in…
|
147986
|
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…
|
1479116
|
Everything is bound to change like / a damsel to the tracks.
|
147981
|
Sorry, I think I was jotting and not writing. I see a dropped article that would clarify my interest. I purposely didn't describe my alcohol use. There, I just did.
|
147990
|
Of flowers there Are none In June No sun Upon my cheek The gentle breeze Stirs me not The smiles They cloud my vision Birds they Sing their songs But I hear Them not When tears Rain down My heaven.
|
147973
|
At last, we learn if Blow has the cojones to fight.
|
1478146
|
So many dreams I need to visit, though
|
147830
|
Roanne, just out of jail, went to cop. That is, she went to beg fat little Freddy the dopeman to front her once more. She'd have to fuck Freddy, of course, but, well, maybe he'd wait until after this time. Likely not…
|
1478128
|
in White Heat
there’s a character
who reads lips
using a mirror to see
the mouths of prisoners
in other cells
that’s how I feel
when I talk
with you
|
147821
|
‘what’s the hassle kiddo, chopping meat is fun, come here and listen to the music of the chop, the sound of steel ripping through air, slicing through flesh and hitting wood, poetry I say’.
|
147854
|
. . . how a body calls
in the dark. . .
|
1478179
|
let’s press our words into the clay/
in language so completely dead/
we have to re-imagine it.
|
147852
|
If there was another way to describe emptiness, I'd word the endlessness of the sky, of the ocean at low tide.
|
147802
|
We’d told her that Kasey waitressed. We talked about it a lot, trying to figure something out. I wanted to be honest with her. Kasey said she was too young to understand. I said that was why honesty wouldn’t hurt anything. Kasey said what about later.
|
147862
|
We’re going to talk about our future like the Rick Dees Weekly Top 40. Like there are 40 great songs this week about our future.
|
14781310
|
This time the bag's bigger/than the boy and the door.
|
147876
|
in a willow garden lush shade/drapes dark the young woman's small house/with the lone window, the white door . . .
|
147822
|
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
|
147821
|
Neither you nor I is old enough, of course,
to remember that America’s most
popular athlete once was a horse.
|
