1349 6 5
|
It sits up tall on its hind legs to take in all of whatever this is, big and bluer than the sky, death's own taxicab parked on its doorstep.
|
134954
|
I am i said pursued by the feeling of being watched.You are she said -- by yourself. As in a dream, a dream you know you're dreaming. Which changes nothing.We are she said watching from the mezzanine, half-above, at once a part and apart.
|
134832
|
[VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.]
|
134897
|
Sex is a fetish war --
a battle of trinkets of desire
|
134887
|
There is a war, but is it not In my heart? There is a war, but You are not the reason. There is a War, but we're all doing what we can. There is a war, but it is not just Your fight. There is a war, but I Wished you still walked…
|
134876
|
I almost caught a poet today.
|
134853
|
This mother, she buys a one way ticket
whenever she visits her three daughters
who have wandered far from the eyes of
her pearlescent knitting needles and tutti-frutti yarns.
|
134840
|
Dear Patricia, You look marvelous. You seem marvelous. You've added wonder to Oprah's life and that's no small feat. But, here's the thing. I was working on this short story about a relative trying to get in touch with O, one of thousands, except, this one, well this one…
|
134811
|
"Soviet Mandelstam rose like Christ from the Nightmare,
Rises from the gulag, sunrise on the page."
|
134830
|
Maybe it might be best to, you know, have less frequent meetings.
|
134822
|
Or, do my own red flags counter balance his. My back and forth, my restlessness, my one foot out the door, my ‘once a leaver… always a leaver’, my pitter patter for a former flame... peppered with my transgressions, my mistakes. Or, worse, the way I have
|
13481510
|
Someone's ass should be kicked.
|
134865
|
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…
|
134811
|
I am only ever
What you seem to be
Without the leverage
Of sweet reality
|
1348118
|
At the conference her boss showed off his knowledge of wines.
|
134899
|
It’s layer VII we adore/
and mourn
|
1348139
|
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
|
134800
|
You need only one who notices.
|
134894
|
happily fling Molotov cocktails//
against ICE agents in armored vehicles/
and sing the pain of their burning deaths/
as triumph against asininity.
|
134855
|
There are certain items in the sink that are giving me an anxious feeling in my stomach.
|
134820
|
Look at this castle: fashioned from the sturdiest sand, pages of my name
|
1348135
|
There were guitar players, and as happens with talent sometimes, the guitar players were too talented. There could not be places for all of them in a single rock band.
|
134766
|
It’s Independence Day. But I’m not feeling independent.
|
134700
|
On these days, while Momma counts the money, we go to Blockbuster where we can pick a movie each, play on the playground at McDonalds, lick tall ice cream cones.
|
134795
|
He kept
saying how my old scars
excited him to new truths
|
134773
|
I experience a presence when walking through the forest . . .
|
1347910
|
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…
|
134776
|
Maybe it was a trick of the gloom.
|
134796
|
"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…
|
134773
|
They called him “Albert, the Human Armadillo,” and he was. Rows of hard scales ran down the course of his chest, and he was studied and biopsied by doctor after doctor. “Psoriasis,” they said. “Or, eczema.” They prescribed ointments and oils that left him
|
