1355 9 6
|
my love for you/ is like the falling snow
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135542
|
I give you the rattle of the rattlesnake. I give you a daub of creosote. I give you the metaphysics of glue.
|
135551
|
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.
|
135542
|
In the exquisite now, I feel everything around me, in me, before and after, I think, I should call you, say goodnight, but I do not, choose instead to write this poem, as though I can capture the magic of what is happening between us in words, A…
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1355105
|
If I could say only one thing more to Tony who died a month ago, there is one thing I could find to say
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135511
|
The Bird King is trapped behind the mirrors. Sometimes you'll see a hand, a wing, fluttering in a dark space. You may even see his breath, a pulse of mist in a corner of the glass. But don't ever smash his silvered prison. Don't ever let him out and into the world.*****O…
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135452
|
Once there was a man who wrote in code. He was comfortable among substitutions
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135431
|
Esmée sat alone at a table on the terrace at Marina Jack’s in Sarasota. She had been there ten minutes and no waitress had approached her.
|
135498
|
Over his usual ham sandwich and skim milk for lunch Uncle Waldo used to always say, “Going out in the dead of night without a flashlight is dangerous.” But I knew what I was doing. After dark, I'd slip out and sneaker on down the path to take a dip in a…
|
1354128
|
in White Heat
there’s a character
who reads lips
using a mirror to see
the mouths of prisoners
in other cells
that’s how I feel
when I talk
with you
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135431
|
There is a the reason for the theft of people and the melting of gold
|
135401
|
[............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................]
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135400
|
He then spent his walk home to his single apartment spitting up various textures of red, combinations of cherry and blood mostly.
|
135441
|
When I was young I bowed with such forgotten politeness, a young salesman, enchanting, in the silken trades. But I remembered the sun also when it was in Hades, which had forgotten to set, or to rise.
Peace, also, dangled there by the neck. Such a pre
|
135465
|
He doesn't call, not even on her birthday. She doesn't mention it or complain. She knows she doesn't have it as bad as some, even in this privileged Triangle of North Carolina. She is white and pretty and belongs to what's left of the middle…
|
135443
|
The shirts hanging by the back veranda serve as our memorial to them.
|
135430
|
You’ve got me standin’ on my knees,
A’searchin’ for a beggar’s alms,
From folks who’re deaf to all my pleas
And blind to open palms.
|
135432
|
Kerryn saved us from ourselves really. Would you be reading this had she eaten it?
|
135353
|
I arrange 15 restatements of how lovely you are forward then backward, horizontally then vertically then along the diagonals.
|
135387
|
Reading at Menlo Park Senior Center,
old people falling asleep leaning to the left in their chairs,
all in the same direction.
|
135341
|
Ben was not a happy musician.
|
135322
|
Later, my daughter told me that she hadn't been scared because as I lay on the ground unconscious I continued to laugh, gradually relaxing into a big smile as I came around a minute later.
|
135311
|
My grandfather rode with the Czar’s army. He was abducted from a village in Austria, trained to pillage and drink, plunder and rape, and ride the best horses that could be had. They were given the best vodka and the sharpest swords. They were all just b
|
135300
|
Two women are escorted to the desert, where they are shackled to the ground. Who are they, what have the done, and will they survive?
|
135321
|
Sometimes when I fall I see a ...
|
135311
|
we all die from the bottom up
|
13531310
|
Tentacles hold fast to the small/
thrashing thing they believe is true//
which, devoured, once crushed/
completely still, turns into shit,
|
135334
|
Ascent/Assent
Together the horizon/
Catechism of love
|
135300
|
Who is the torturer and who is the tortured?
|
135353
|
He looked like a black paper doorway pasted onto a painting of summer.
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