1383 4 0
|
like old discarded snake skin,
dry and coarse after the bite...
immortally tortured by broken glass bottles.
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138311
|
. . . nor did mine eye apologize.
|
138331
|
'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.…
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138365
|
I found a diseased fish / wedged between some boulders near the pier
|
138350
|
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 …
|
138332
|
Sebastian and Janice had been a natural match. They sought to deny this at first because a recovery assistance program was not a place to forge intimate relationships. It worked out wonderfully in Hollywood, but Hollywood, as everyone knew, was just a facade. So…
|
138300
|
Her feet are raised upon an embroidered green pillow and she sits naked in a blue velvet chair. Red earrings dangling from her ears, while a red monkey sits at her feet with one leg extended.
She is exotic. A powder blue on her lips and at her navel,
|
1382105
|
an engine stalls out
in the parking lot
the driver
tears her skirt
coming through the door
|
1382102
|
|
138200
|
What do I understand?
What have I mastered or come to terms with?
|
138211
|
Daddy says he needs to go to the movies at night to relieve his stress, so Momma wakes us up, puts coats over our pajamas, leads us to the car ...
|
1382910
|
So where does that leave me, Roscoe Loomis wondered, dismounting his silver, aluminum steed in his sweat-soaked, spandex outfit, and, clearing the saliva from his beard he walked over, checked and smiled, learning that the bike track's timing unit showed it was Roscoe's…
|
1382179
|
let’s press our words into the clay/
in language so completely dead/
we have to re-imagine it.
|
138211
|
I am only ever
What you seem to be
Without the leverage
Of sweet reality
|
138200
|
The eyelid of the sink blinks silence. The clocks choke on smoke.
|
138244
|
So for now, let the snow fall, but
let it fall gently,
each flake as a soft piano note
|
138200
|
Holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped in a tissue in one hand, a round shape that balances the round yellow burst of light that is her dress. While the flesh of her chest bulges forward and she balances as though in a holding pattern in flight.
|
138232
|
What do you want me to tell you about this next full moon cycle that you don't already intuitively seem to have touched upon in your latest bout of almost there dreams? It too will pass? That it is a totally different unfair animal from the repellent one already…
|
138211
|
an elongating boy with butter-yellow flecks in his eyes, and skin patched like a tabby.
|
1382118
|
|
1382139
|
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
|
138294
|
happily fling Molotov cocktails//
against ICE agents in armored vehicles/
and sing the pain of their burning deaths/
as triumph against asininity.
|
1382189
|
I want to tell you how the odor of the flowers/felt her funeral day
|
138287
|
He invited her in for a Martini and she graciously accepted.
|
138288
|
I attended the burial of our affair when I found the notebook-maybe it should be called her diary-she had foolishly forgotten, leaving it on the deck of my beach house where she stayed while I was on that short trip to Chicago and I was numbed at first, unsure how to…
|
138298
|
You snore and the house is safe again.
|
138200
|
To a tech-savvy millennial, the definition of progress is a hands-free blowjob, and the real number is not how many men you’ve been with but how many minutes you’ve made them wait.
|
138211
|
Where the skin had grazed, shredded by the coarse gravel to form scabs, fascinated Jack. It reminded him of his youth and his own grazes, scratches and stitches. As a boy he imagined scabs were rough foundations of igneous rock, blood like lava pouring th
|
1381101
|
These are the three facts of my life.
|
138198
|
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
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