1371 5 1
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Darkness was fast approaching. I stuck out my tongue at Naya, and she reached out as if to grab…
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137120
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Half past six; already, through the gloom Saltwater flourish sifts from wharfs that ply Their play like girls that haunt the midnight's womb, As far it seems as walks of Barbary. Within the bar, French waitresses and sots Play dice with time awhile and rub…
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137150
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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 …
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137100
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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.
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137111
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I still picture her waving her bare arms and hands into the purple bellied clouds above the trees, her crooked smile, the spiraling silver maple seeds cascading soft circles around her determined reach, as though the very tree limbs shaping the sky above
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137076
|
Up at the top, a quarter mile south, billows of black smoke crawled up the faint blue of the sky.
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137032
|
I used to be a poet, you know. /
Better, in many respects, than you.
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137076
|
Ross, I've been a ghost hunter for almost 10 years now and this is a place I said I WOULD NEVER NEVER EVER go to!
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137051
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“There are so few uses for Crisco, that to keep it in the house seems an unnecessary temptation,” said my health teacher.
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137021
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I was feeling a bit introspective. I was busy in my own mind assembling the history of the place and getting ready for the visit. I was naturally not someone who would cluster up with a bunch of people I had just met and had arrived to participate in this
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137010
|
My name is Jeremy, and I am in love with a zombie.
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137054
|
|
137057
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It is claimed we choose/
conditions of our servitude.
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137022
|
"...does the nurse, doctor or veterinarian experience greater sexual satisfaction than say the housewife in DesMoines or the sixth grade English teacher in Passaic?"
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13701312
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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…
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137065
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how the world is constantlyrevolving her mirroredorbs around the roomlooking for someone tohypnotize, a goddesshell-bent on catching agoon to mortal with; andas you lie from behindyourself so shall she lie withyou. Now, do you reallywant my answer to…
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137096
|
"It was one kiss. No tongue. What does that even mean?" Lindley tried to see Leah as any other patient, "What do you want it to mean?" "I don't know," Leah whined, tears welling, "something, maybe. You know I hate surprises." Her sister was not another…
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137020
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"My sister's parrot admires your armpit," X-Lautrec says. "Would you be so kind as to nail an avocado seed to a cup of black coffee?"
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137031
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'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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137077
|
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…
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137044
|
Sometimes my poems escape. They crawl out through my Wi-Fi connection, I suspect.
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136966
|
It’s Independence Day. But I’m not feeling independent.
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13691210
|
A man of action would take to his rake/
but Sloth would rather watch and wait/
for snow to erase each leaf on leaf.
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13691610
|
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136994
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When we are given eternity, as a night is eternal
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1369115
|
The smell of garlic, soy, and onions/
exhausted from Skillman Wok/
perfumes December air.
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136900
|
Behind the bellicose façade lay a soft, compassionate soul. He sat within a swirl of rosy twilight hues, buoyed by the gently creeping tide. A dark wall approached and he mechanically spun and began stroking into the glassy canvas of light and ocean that lay between him…
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136931
|
It was more than just taste/
more than a point of view/
and oil and pigment/
that painted a store front church/
a box with a cross in a vacant lot/
that welcomed desperation, faith/
and imagination.
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136932
|
I am useless. A freak. Different. They all hate me now. All except you, of course. You will never leave me. Never. I'd kill them all if I could. Every single one. But twenty-four, that's a lot even for me. I'm so sick of the cliques; the special groups and hastily strung…
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136932
|
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. …
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