1545 4 4
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1545116
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Heel to toe, our bunions
are our ingrown medals.
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154552
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154532
|
So do you read my writing?I text youI need to know whatyou like betterThe bloodor the gutsThat's what it is.You see Iput it out therefor you.That's not what it saysbut I know the truth.Am I smart enoughgood enoughdo you think it's crapbecause anyone can like it…
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154544
|
On a street-lit night in Jeddah.
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154532
|
My pain is a black pearl hidden in a clean shell.
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154500
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A dark and mysterious account of an ancient traveler seeking arcane literature, and the miserable results to him after he receives what he sought.
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154530
|
Maybe it might be best to, you know, have less frequent meetings.
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154574
|
The marble, it's just there.
I can't explain
how it got there
(or when),
all I know
is that everything
is in that marble.
By "everything,"
I mean every
thing. Your breakfast?
It's there.
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154522
|
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154500
|
Holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped in a tissue in one hand, a round shape that balances the round yellow burst of light that is her dress. While the flesh of her chest bulges forward and she balances as though in a holding pattern in flight.
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154576
|
in a willow garden lush shade/drapes dark the young woman's small house/with the lone window, the white door . . .
|
154588
|
I attended the burial of our affair when I found the notebook-maybe it should be called her diary-she had foolishly forgotten, leaving it on the deck of my beach house where she stayed while I was on that short trip to Chicago and I was numbed at first, unsure how to…
|
154520
|
Now it's late. I am hanging upside down from a rope coiled around my crushed left ankle, the pain too sharp to be really felt, as the excess blood to my head makes my thoughts fuzzy. I am almost two meters from the rock face, thirty-five hundred meters above sea-level, the…
|
154597
|
If they are all speaking medicine & I / start speaking French - how / rude am I? Would they understand then / what it is to be entirely left out / of the conversation, unseen?
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154500
|
Cooking dinner for one in a city that isn’t my home. A beautiful city that I’m slowly losing interest in, just as I become a local. In a tiny apartment set in the most realistic part of town, I’ve turned the music up loud to drown out my thoughts.
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154421
|
Just an abnormal visit to the post office.
|
154421
|
I want the luxury of hearing other people who disagree with me tell me why I’m an asshole!
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154444
|
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15441711
|
Neither of us thought of real winning. We set about brilliant losing, dark angel forms of luck and greed, the desire, the craving, the need to lose so strenuous that one wins; we tied at thirteen.
|
1544108
|
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.…
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154400
|
He then spent his walk home to his single apartment spitting up various textures of red, combinations of cherry and blood mostly.
|
154486
|
At some point we all reach the end point/
of something. Something important/
if only to our fragile self esteem.
|
154463
|
In that time when the trunk was getting cleared out and when it became only the empty shell of what had once been so important, many things hit the match. She burned an old black negligee, a picture competing with the likes of a Vargas girl and other thin
|
154442
|
In the summer of 1963 I went to Philadelphia to study with a member of the Philadelphia Orchestra.
|
154431
|
'Every raindrop sounds different.' says Barney. He's bouncing along beside his mother, twisting in her hand like warm milk. She looks down at his Big Bear hat and tugs. They wait together at the edge of the busy road. 'How do they sound?' 'Zzzing.…
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154487
|
Downtown Milwaukee My feet are exposed, never been out in public even out here— …
|
15441511
|
When Lois finally found him down there, Johnny was wedged between a large rock and the trunk of an old, long since fallen, cottonwood tree. She said as she got to him, she heard his gurgling breath, fighting fiercely to stay alive. When she saw the deep, gathering, red…
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154444
|
"...,beautiful, yet neutral, an oversimplistic reading of the people we meet."
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154480
|
Joe's, always smelling of cherry chapstick or the breeze that comes up from subway grates, used to service some of the finest dupes in town.
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