103822
|
Does modeling come easily to me? Am I made for the camera? Not exactly. When I pose for a shot, I feel, well, like a poser, really.
|
103899
|
It’s layer VII we adore/
and mourn
|
103810
|
It's saying, "It feels as if you've given me your old, your tired and your poor. I feel much older than the years you've logged."
|
103864
|
and coughed its grey net over the candle lit world outside. Birds of an arrow sprang into thin air and disappeared over the hills in a quick shortness of zoom-breath-- like a stiffened branch snapping . It's cold. There're …
|
103842
|
In the summer of 1963 I went to Philadelphia to study with a member of the Philadelphia Orchestra.
|
103844
|
Your kiss has spread like a fever, persistent and catastrophic for an ill-prepared heart like mine.
|
1038106
|
The new theaters require C-4 poems
|
103866
|
|
103810
|
One of these days
we aren’t going to believe
whatever they tell us.
|
103800
|
My heart was a puzzle completely incomplete,
until I learned of love in your embrace.
|
103811
|
Performed October 21-22, Gallery 263, Cambridge, Mass. Kathy-Ann Hart, the Hostess; Ryan Wenke, Ubu; Tyler Catanella, Alfred Jarry; the author--technician.
|
103856
|
I said: “Doesn’t he understand? People like me, geniuses—great, mad geniuses—are prone to failures because we do not accept the common notions of society? Doesn’t he understand? I’m not like the others.”
|
103821
|
Bake sweet rolls and make love to your new wife, fall asleep for three years and grow a beard.
|
103854
|
You can tell your doctor the truth
Even if no one else will stop and listen
He or she may have a balm for it
To help make it go away
Or at least go into remission
Remission is the staging area for Lies
Corporate and otherwise
We don’t have
|
103810
|
And so the man-faced boy grew alone, knowing little of kindness and love. As he grew, he explored the limits of his cold world; crawling in dusty nappies, toddling in hand-me-down rags, at last walking on worn sandals, haunting the edges of human life loo
|
103765
|
Everything was cool until she used the phrase, "five million dollar home."
|
103732
|
I used to be a poet, you know. /
Better, in many respects, than you.
|
1037135
|
each act of creation is a jolt of expectation
|
103700
|
I figure maybe I’m mostly alone; they are all running down staircases or falling down fire escapes, some of them naked, some of them with towels, mostly probably naked though.
|
1037106
|
The screen door slowly opened. I was expecting the second / coming of perfection.
|
10371210
|
|
10371010
|
I dreamt I was raped the other night. Sometimes it was me, that is, and sometimes it was another woman with a dark bouffant hair-do. Definitely outside though and the hulking back of the man was covered by a charcoal wool…
|
103775
|
The pool deck was covered with the bloody footprints of resident gawkers.
|
103777
|
I could put on some music, but it just pushes me further away from you it seems. It takes me out far beyond the safety breakers and then introduces me to my own splashing two-fisted fear of swimming. You can swim through concrete—it…
|
103720
|
I was about sixteen or seventeen when James Miller had a stroke and died. He was a friend of my father's and a preacher-guy. The last time our church had been that full was at the barbecue the weekend after the church was built. Somehow, the structure went…
|
103774
|
I remember going out to a restaurant with some guy and a friend of mine who brought her little boy along. And suddenly her boy said, “I want to hear the man talk.” Well, that stopped us. Smart kid, I thought. He was fed up hearing her women friends talk
|
103785
|
Those socks? Nope. I'd look like the joker in the commercial, the creep with the pollen issues and the triangular smile. What a genius. It's the part off-screen I can't forget, the part they left on the editing reel. She's crumbling the crackers into her soup, that dry…
|
103720
|
The flowerpots across the street from Frank’s room at the Place d’Armes Hotel never appeared parched by the late August sun.
|
103741
|
The capsules tumble around, one of them plinking against the crown in my upper-right jaw. I hate the crown… a mute reminder of the first time Brad hit me. Swallowing the capsules, my tongue probes the left side of my mouth, finding the other two crowns…
|
103731
|
ghosts of the previous owners who leave a trail of whispers
|