1444 9 0
|
Sit right down in the chair. It's a glider, see? Smooth and easy movement without that annoying head-swing you get from a rocker. And easy to get out of, unlike a lounge chair. Relax. "Reba" reruns will be coming on in a minute.
|
144499
|
It’s layer VII we adore/
and mourn
|
144400
|
Early in the morning
I wanted to send you something
for when you wake;
|
144400
|
When his mother was all dressed up on New Year’s Eve, and his father, even thought they had tickets for the dance, announced to her he wasn’t going to go, Johnny had gone into his room, put on a white shirt, a dark suit, his dress shoes, and a clip-o
|
144473
|
Ginny, the mother, was a lark in every respect of the word. Born and raised in central California farm country, to a family of lower middle class means, educated in public schools in whose bathroom stalls she was deflowered as unceremoniously as a pig ta
|
144400
|
Harv and Julianne He has woken here now, on this bed, and on this particular day, many times. His fifth year in the cabin, his fifth December in Helen, his fifth, he is sure, of many…
|
14441012
|
All the things that are his.
|
144451
|
A dead deer on the side of the road and the older boys not listening to her as they stab its eye with a stick.
|
144421
|
Only fragments of their lives survive, like broken Sapphos. I have known them, alleged killer of themselves for the love of a man., but we know this is an invention. The leader of a whole guild of girls, who wrote 7 books of poems. What happened to them
|
144411
|
Suddenly the producer, Irving, tosses a new idea into the discussion, an idea for a possible film. Then the writer, Herbert, does the talking. He performs, in fact, puts on a one-man show. The idea! The idea! It's…
|
144466
|
And here’s a picture of you
at the end of the line
to the great toilet of
fiction, waiting to
relieve yourself, quick
before the poetry gets to you.
Or worse, the actual
poets.
|
144421
|
His touch, even now, seemed to set off tremors inside her.
|
144400
|
If Don’s story was one of faith carrying someone through his trials, the story of Randy Slafter is another. It was faith that brought him and his family to Johnstown 15 years ago. The wings of faith protected him from the dark angels of grief and tragedy
|
144374
|
these tender girls tears recent / with stained souls, brides of dead, / cadaverous Erebus; unguarded ladder / long the down going…came Anticlea then
|
144387
|
Reading at Menlo Park Senior Center,
old people falling asleep leaning to the left in their chairs,
all in the same direction.
|
144321
|
|
144344
|
I gave you two daughters.
I gave you four grandchildren.
I'm done.
|
144332
|
I asked him his name and here’s the kicker, Leiby. It means lion.
You know what? I said mine is Levi, how do you do.
That means to accompany—like in the root of the word, it’s got that meaning.
As in levayah, funeral in Hebrew. Does that only
|
144351
|
you'd do him more of a favor to kill him, than place upon him the burden of such an abrupt change in travel plans.
|
144331
|
I just amuse myself by buying old guns and refurbishing them in my basement as I listen to old Bohemian polkas on cassettes.
|
144362
|
We’re going to talk about our future like the Rick Dees Weekly Top 40. Like there are 40 great songs this week about our future.
|
144311
|
I knew we were going to fail. The night we met, when we got out of the car, I dropped my green glove in that puddle, you picked it up but it was ruined. That set the precedent for our whole life together. You can't look at me anymore. My cigarette…
|
144323
|
Me sad because of results set forth in my life story.
|
144386
|
What the spaces say//
can be heard in the short/
and longer silences
|
144255
|
When he leans back from the telescope through which he had been looking, he sports a derby and a Hercule Poirot moustache.
|
144244
|
Robert Frost told me that life goes on, but that’s just not good enough for me and for God’s sake it shouldn’t be good enough for you either, should it?
|
144232
|
today on the bus/ a man in his fifties/ smiled at a baby/
|
144287
|
|
144221
|
‘what’s the hassle kiddo, chopping meat is fun, come here and listen to the music of the chop, the sound of steel ripping through air, slicing through flesh and hitting wood, poetry I say’.
|
144230
|
Maybe it might be best to, you know, have less frequent meetings.
|
