1457 5 3
|
|
145700
|
He rolls in unbidden across the stubble fields /
Old acquaintance astride a newly booming cloud/
Under sky an alien shade of strawberries whipped/
Her watch stops ticking out the rest of her/
scheduled breathing poses
|
145765
|
Maybe they considered themselves beyond redemption, or maybe they couldn't sit for that long.
|
145755
|
where will we be/ when it happens?
|
145756
|
beckoning with citrus streaks blue cobbled streets/and stuccos lit with gold lamps guide strollers here/to Place du Forum in Arles and this café . . .
|
145641
|
Ben was not a happy musician.
|
1456129
|
I smelled the bleach of burst anemones
the sweet arousal of the Dungeness crabs
the seaweed of sour twigs and feces
|
145611
|
There's something about the way he touches me every time that makes my heart skip a beat and pushes the air from my throat. I shiver under his hot breath while he whispers softly and pulls himself closer, letting his fingers glide…
|
145600
|
I should have never gotten involved in such a huge lie. I was a poet, for God's sake, not a novelist. I wasn't used to lying.
|
145611
|
Max sighed. Solving for x was boring, so mind numbingly boring that he didn't notice the flickering blue light hovering in his room. It crackled and popped, growing until a shimmering rectangle stretched from floor to ceiling.A hand pushed out from the rectangle, and a…
|
145600
|
But she didn't. It would have been no historical anomaly if she had, by the way. She played with the world like it was a toy. Sometimes I wondered if I'd wake up in a box, a victim of live internment, and scream only to be humiliated later by her laughter
|
14561911
|
Culture gives what it feels you deserve/
in the cul-de-sac of your time and place.
|
145600
|
Grayson Warren is living the American Dream: a 15-year career as a city cop, a great wife and two kids. And then one day his dream turns into a nightmare.
|
145600
|
I pat my pocket to make sure everything’s in order; a Starbucks blueberry scone to sustain me, a $50 Brooks Brothers gift card from my in-laws, and my “piece”–a fully-charged BlackBerry handheld device.
|
145640
|
like old discarded snake skin,
dry and coarse after the bite...
immortally tortured by broken glass bottles.
|
145611
|
we all die from the bottom up
|
145610
|
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."
|
145654
|
Uzma dashes up the stairs ahead of me . . .
|
1456126
|
It comes to me at night, the monster. I don't even realize it's in the room until I hear it breathing behind me. It reaches out its hands and places them on my shoulders. Its fingers are furry and soft, but strong. They grasp the muscles on either side of my neck, and I…
|
145645
|
Today I’m feeling crabby and haggard and technology makes it easy to get to the point.
|
145631
|
She's an obese woman whose clothes don't fit: shirts that ride up too high her belly hanging out her pants suctioned to her strangely pegged legs. Her ballooned cheeks are always chapped pink her lips little slivers peeled back over small beige teeth like…
|
145698
|
War Stories #1The Germans didn't like that theJews had such beautiful women.War Stories#2There must have been a war between the good witches and the bad witches. It's the only thing that would account for such troubling times.Woman With Yellow HatWhy did…
|
145600
|
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.
|
145521
|
Just an abnormal visit to the post office.
|
145580
|
Beautiful, he thinks, as he taps the ash of his cigarette over the balcony, but this is not good enough.
|
145532
|
today on the bus/ a man in his fifties/ smiled at a baby/
|
145544
|
people keep trying to get me/ "out of the house"./ they see fun in me, and cool in me,/ and want to spend time with me,/ and i am flattered most sincerely./
|
145511
|
I dream about the boy in The Neverending Story, the gate of mirrors, and the Nothing, a dark cloud that floats in the sky, takes away everything.
|
145522
|
'Like poems,’ I said
she paused and nodded
her black mop.
|
145583
|
After oh so many hours
the eyes could only close
only to view a Ritz cracker
marching on a nose
|
