1460 7 5
|
This late November day there are too many leaves filling the yard.
|
1460 6 3
|
My father seems anxious about my gender orientation. I grew up looking like a boy, acting like a boy. He bought dresses and girly stuff for me but he avoided making an issue of it until recently.
|
1460 9 9
|
It’s layer VII we adore/
and mourn
|
1460 5 5
|
While watching the ever-present crowds
passing by on my insides, I noticed,
by accident, a man smiling
who might have been me, not sure.
Maybe I’m eating soap
for the first time, because I am
either frothing or foaming
at the mouth.
An
|
1460 5 1
|
THE BOOK YOU'LL NEVER READ CONTENTS This Is Not A Test In The Event Of A Nuclear Attack, This Message Will Be Followed By A Message From Your Local Civilian Defense Authority Fuck, The Radio Doesn't Work Trouble Shooting Radios The Top 40…
|
1460 1 1
|
Pen or sword? Pick one/choose your battles carefully/for the paths oppose
|
1460 7 3
|
At last, we learn if Blow has the cojones to fight.
|
1460 6 5
|
I can do the hot coals, no problem.
Or, your love, eyes closed.
Or your sneer, spank,
suffering, resentment, rejection.
|
1459 7 4
|
these tender girls tears recent / with stained souls, brides of dead, / cadaverous Erebus; unguarded ladder / long the down going…came Anticlea then
|
1459 5 5
|
Gnarly Berger was born in a guitar case in Istanbul. His mother was an Iranian singer from Israel accompanied by a Turkish santur player & a French guitarist (Gnarly's biological father) and into whose guitar case Gnarly entered this world, somewhat by accident,…
|
1459 5 2
|
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.…
|
1459 2 0
|
Ruth carries always a small bottle of nitroglycerin; and tissues, wads of tissues; two Tums (for calcium, she tells me)...
|
1459 6 2
|
your light is gonna
last me
through the week
|
1459 1 0
|
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.
|
1459 4 0
|
There are songs I know to not listen to when I am alone.
|
1459 8 3
|
goes on and on. Like it's a sad mad season on Mars, well it isn't, is it? Sometimes I have towonder whatever happenedto us, to make us forget how well we already know how tosing as good as any larks do? I have never wantedto drown, but I've…
|
1459 2 1
|
He and she are fucking while I watch. She's moaning deep desire and he's pounding flesh into flesh. I'm fully clothed, eyes attune to their fornication, studying. He comes inside of her; their bodies stiffen and then wriggle against one another. …
|
1459 0 0
|
The pit of my stomach was bottoming out, this lurching sort-of feeling one experiences when one has coasted WELL OVER an abyss and has no way of finding one's bearings . . .
|
1459 2 1
|
Neither you nor I is old enough, of course,
to remember that America’s most
popular athlete once was a horse.
|
1459 0 0
|
Your father, his father, and his before that, your mother, her mother, and all the way back have kept a tradition by chance or by will to each have a baby (or several) until…
|
1458 11 6
|
Jane knew what to do
when she heard murmurs in the ceiling,
knew what to do when she struck out on the moor.
|
1458 2 1
|
In the ’70′s, Bigfoot was romantically linked with Farrah Fawcett, spotted in an Arkansas 7-11 with Elvis, and tabbed the front-runner to be Secretary of the Interior had Gerald Ford defeated Jimmy Carter.
|
1458 19 11
|
|
1458 8 6
|
At some point we all reach the end point/
of something. Something important/
if only to our fragile self esteem.
|
1458 2 1
|
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.
|
1458 15 10
|
in which a man who is bored with years of retirement poses a threat to himself and others
|
1458 3 2
|
|
1458 0 0
|
Hits start, enters numbers, runs the program / Does this again one hundred times / Then takes a break
|
1458 5 3
|
Oh my god - A plagiarizing pony - I know someone must have said that before
|
1458 3 2
|
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. …
|