1448 6 5
|
When I slip through the seams I return to the same place.
|
144862
|
your light is gonna
last me
through the week
|
144854
|
I find myself in an unfamiliar restaurant, its cuisine an uncomfortable pastiche of Croatian, Burmese, Jamaican and leftovers of long ago Sunday dinners in a small New England town.
|
1448179
|
let’s press our words into the clay/
in language so completely dead/
we have to re-imagine it.
|
144800
|
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.
|
144811
|
Pen or sword? Pick one/choose your battles carefully/for the paths oppose
|
144842
|
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
|
144887
|
|
144844
|
Sometimes my poems escape. They crawl out through my Wi-Fi connection, I suspect.
|
144752
|
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.…
|
144720
|
Ruth carries always a small bottle of nitroglycerin; and tissues, wads of tissues; two Tums (for calcium, she tells me)...
|
1447108
|
One day, my feet and hands got into an argument. My feet argued that they were superior because they were not only the foundation of my body, but the cause of its mobility. They were modest in size, yet supported and transported an entire body that towered over them.…
|
144732
|
We were talking in the dark in my room. He lay on a mattress on the floor. He came for a sleepover.
|
144753
|
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…
|
144786
|
At some point we all reach the end point/
of something. Something important/
if only to our fragile self esteem.
|
144700
|
We trade broken phrases of English, Arabic...
|
144755
|
It's been a bad year, People dying. Some too close to home, Some too far away. I cry down to you, In your casket, and think you might sit up. You were not sick You went in just a moment, Looking stunning and alive. Not…
|
144775
|
This late November day there are too many leaves filling the yard.
|
144700
|
I play in the dirt with cattle bones
while Mother rattles the sky.
She tells me I have my fathers eyes.
The words come through bloody fissures in her lips.
|
14471310
|
This time the bag's bigger/than the boy and the door.
|
144711
|
Andrew had learned the art of being a chameleon at school where his school uniform provided an exoskeleton. Beneath was no costume, just the fragile skin of adolescent ego.
|
144753
|
“There is a fine line between love and hatred.” This was what his closest friend, Bob Sanders, had said to him many years ago. And it had finally and irrevocably proven to be so.
|
144621
|
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.
|
144666
|
It’s Independence Day. But I’m not feeling independent.
|
144653
|
Seeking your will, instead we found, somehow, a clutch of our own documents;
folded under a rubber band gone to rot,
muddy strands nestled in the creases.
|
144621
|
I don't know what I'd expected from the week of mourning after my mother died but I sure hadn't pictured this marathon cocktail party. Our house is packed with people, food, booze and borrowed chairs. People I haven't seen in years keep turning up with casseroles.I'm…
|
144610
|
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.
|
144663
|
Some people are born that way, and some people do things to themselves
that keep them from talking. Like opening up a soda bottle with your mouth.
|
144632
|
A young boy, breathing heavily from running, stopped at her feet, barely able to speak,
|
144673
|
I experience a presence when walking through the forest . . .
|
