1453 7 5
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This late November day there are too many leaves filling the yard.
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145332
|
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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145341
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I'm in the boardroom, downtown in San Francisco. I don't even remember showing up for work today. I hope they fire me, just like they fired Bill. Well not exactly like that, that was awful. He was caught downloading a phenomenal amount of…
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14531711
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...when they entered eager lungs hungry from deep and sweaty love
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145321
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She’s always had one foot on a pedestal and the other in a gutter.
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145311
|
Pen or sword? Pick one/choose your battles carefully/for the paths oppose
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145342
|
I was in life, in my dream. I was feeling around underneath your clothing. My fingers were shining in the underwater afterlife of memory, searching for those lovely nipple-sized mollusks. I lived in a land somewhere between the past and the future. Now
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145387
|
|
145300
|
Would we have been satisfied with a humble butter sculpture of a cow in 1960? Puh-lease! Would Parisians of the Impressionist era swoon over a big-eyed child picture?
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145390
|
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.
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145344
|
Sometimes my poems escape. They crawl out through my Wi-Fi connection, I suspect.
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145322
|
|
145365
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I can do the hot coals, no problem.
Or, your love, eyes closed.
Or your sneer, spank,
suffering, resentment, rejection.
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145221
|
My eyes are wide open. I look like a graphic novel. My world is black and white. I’m poorly drawn. All sounds have an exclamation point.
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145230
|
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…
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1452179
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In the next week or two, the red oak/
will loose and lose its leaves
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145210
|
Flicking through the sheets on her clipboard, Evelyn double checked the address with the mismatched numbers on the letterbox. Its mouth was a rusty, gaping grin like it had lost its dentures.
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145253
|
We entered the castle at dawn. The dim light feebly illumined an array of antiques and medieval weapons. Bats dangled from the high vaulted ceiling, enfolded in membranous wings. What were once chandeliers radiating light were encrusted with webs and the ancient wax…
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145221
|
But behind the shops (and the many pubs), at the back of the narrow cottage fronts which line the wynds are secret courtyards, surprising gardens and more light than ever imagined.
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145232
|
A young boy, breathing heavily from running, stopped at her feet, barely able to speak,
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145221
|
I remember sitting there on the first unfinished rooftop, watching you building houses out of words. You hammered in grammar and punctuation; you said these things needed to be hammered in by hand. You drove the long straight exclamation …
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145253
|
Oh my god - A plagiarizing pony - I know someone must have said that before
|
145241
|
Miracles don’t happen to the poor.
|
145200
|
I was watching the bustling crowd below, sipping on a teacup full of Victory Gin when the scream, no a howl, cut through the murmuring of footsteps and telescreens.
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1452128
|
Compartments trickle together/
in light diffuse and unreliable./
Fortify yourself against the day.
|
145243
|
—Strip down to your shorts. Put on this gown, open to the rear.
|
145165
|
When I slip through the seams I return to the same place.
|
145132
|
We were talking in the dark in my room. He lay on a mattress on the floor. He came for a sleepover.
|
145186
|
At some point we all reach the end point/
of something. Something important/
if only to our fragile self esteem.
|
145100
|
We trade broken phrases of English, Arabic...
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