1521 3 3
|
The leaves/
seek reunion with the ground//
and leave the oak tree naked/
in December’s cold.
|
152190
|
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.
|
152134
|
Carl’s peculiarity of toilet paper rolls is not covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act – he’s looked it up.
|
152021
|
An excellent plan. Just like old times.
|
152010
|
In the United States of America children everywhere are waiting for summer vacation. To a child in the United States, there is summer vacation and then there is everything else. Summer vacation is freedom. The united states was built on the foundation that one day we will…
|
152044
|
|
152052
|
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.…
|
152010
|
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.
|
152054
|
. . . how a body calls
in the dark. . .
|
152000
|
“We are NOT starving!” I stated emphatically. “What ever gave you the idea that you are starving? Honestly, Annie, you are so melodramatic. You have food in front of you right now, don’t you?’ I said pointing to her plate of potatoes and so
|
152000
|
A life in NYC was one I always dreamed of but I found myself turning into a bitter, sarcastic person who was losing the ability to see the silver lining in just about anything.
|
1520179
|
let’s press our words into the clay/
in language so completely dead/
we have to re-imagine it.
|
152087
|
|
152010
|
My bones will rob me blind, corpuscle by corpuscle.
|
152031
|
|
152044
|
So for now, let the snow fall, but
let it fall gently,
each flake as a soft piano note
|
152032
|
I didn't feel when you cut out my spine I'd been throwing up all night couldn't even smell the rust …
|
152042
|
Blankets were always her undoing.
|
152030
|
blackberry pie and huckleberry wine and litte Maria with her summerset bangs
|
152086
|
What the spaces say//
can be heard in the short/
and longer silences
|
1520810
|
The floor dissolves beneath us, pierced by lasered/
glare of countless eye-beams.
|
151944
|
I gave you two daughters.
I gave you four grandchildren.
I'm done.
|
1519107
|
This time the mountain climber does not attain the summit.
|
15191711
|
Neither of us thought of real winning. We set about brilliant losing, dark angel forms of luck and greed, the desire, the craving, the need to lose so strenuous that one wins; we tied at thirteen.
|
1519115
|
The smell of garlic, soy, and onions/
exhausted from Skillman Wok/
perfumes December air.
|
151941
|
|
151940
|
There are songs I know to not listen to when I am alone.
|
151900
|
Hits start, enters numbers, runs the program / Does this again one hundred times / Then takes a break
|
1519118
|
every timeyou openyour mouthan angel fallsinto a vat of whiskyshut ityou're fucking up heaven2013 - Rene
|
151965
|
He doesn't call, not even on her birthday. She doesn't mention it or complain. She knows she doesn't have it as bad as some, even in this privileged Triangle of North Carolina. She is white and pretty and belongs to what's left of the middle…
|
