1452 11 5
|
Among the raindrops/
occasional plopping snowflakes.
|
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.
|
145154
|
. . . how a body calls
in the dark. . .
|
145133
|
The idea of an infinite textual universe occurs in many places in the works of Jorge Luis Borges. The contexts and permutations of language, which others had held to be perhaps infinite (allowing themselves to use such an imprecise term), that…
|
145199
|
It’s layer VII we adore/
and mourn
|
145122
|
The Inauguration Day Windstorm had blown out half the downtown lights to celebrate its twenty-first birthday. Two old friends flecked with gray snow and white hair sat on the boulders that kept the Sound from sweeping away Myrtle Edwards Park. Look at all the…
|
145196
|
my love for you/ is like the falling snow
|
14512512
|
|
14511310
|
This time the bag's bigger/than the boy and the door.
|
145121
|
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. …
|
145100
|
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…
|
145011
|
This is 57% of middle America, I'm convinced: doomed.
|
145055
|
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,…
|
145053
|
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.
|
145021
|
|
145044
|
The young boy woke to the sound of laughter. He blinked himself out of deep sleep and allowed…
|
145052
|
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.…
|
145020
|
Stay tuned for my next short - Candle Smoke Wishes - COMING SOON ON A MONITOR NEAR YOU!!
|
145010
|
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.
|
145073
|
I experience a presence when walking through the forest . . .
|
145002
|
We’d told her that Kasey waitressed. We talked about it a lot, trying to figure something out. I wanted to be honest with her. Kasey said she was too young to understand. I said that was why honesty wouldn’t hurt anything. Kasey said what about later.
|
145000
|
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.
|
145032
|
He painted a woman on them, identical to the woman that kneeled by his bed.
|
1450105
|
I like it best when I wake up
And the wild rain of dreaming ends.
|
145011
|
- Never in pain and distance -
Frown on these moments,
With bitterness and vain
|
145073
|
At last, we learn if Blow has the cojones to fight.
|
144974
|
these tender girls tears recent / with stained souls, brides of dead, / cadaverous Erebus; unguarded ladder / long the down going…came Anticlea then
|
144964
|
just before my break,/ he came on the line,/ old and slow with computers now/ but wanting a discount/ he'd been told he qualified for.
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