1486 13 8
|
inside i know my heart rattles
cause outside i'm only seeing
that the truth is in tatters
|
148632
|
today on the bus/ a man in his fifties/ smiled at a baby/
|
148630
|
|
148642
|
A walled city doesn’t let you out any more easily that it has let you in earlier.
|
148644
|
The last chick in the nest
|
148664
|
When I look at the picture on my refrigerator, I always think the same thing: "Hitler was a baby once too, look how well he turned out."
|
148600
|
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.
|
148690
|
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.
|
148622
|
I may as well have been sleepwalking. Either way, I had no opportunity to admire the moonlight flooding into the long corridors, illuminating the stag heads and painted cheeks of long-dead ancestors.
|
148633
|
Where we’ve penned heart shaped question marks, seeds sprouting bowed heads, a congregation of confused supplicants.
|
148600
|
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.
|
148611
|
we all die from the bottom up
|
148621
|
I stared at these meteor impacts, feeling far away, a lone sentient cloud admiring the scoured yet wondrous earth-of-this-girl below me, the lean slope of her side, the soft dip of her neck, the sharp edge of her cheekbone, the monarch wing of her eyelash
|
148644
|
The bartender kept looking at himself in the mirror behind the bar. “Everyone in Hollywood is an actor,” Doc said.
|
148623
|
say no / to me / and devastate me / and I will take it / as god's will / to drown me / in a vat / of my own / entrails
|
1486169
|
Our disappearance would register/
as the movement of a sand grain/
on a windy beach full of sand.
|
148673
|
Shit, I guess I'm gonna hafta
|
148644
|
"...,beautiful, yet neutral, an oversimplistic reading of the people we meet."
|
148666
|
Then I did the same to you, inhaling your scent which was one thing at your hairline and another at your collarbone.
|
1486177
|
...bush tail beside him his closest comfort next to the genes...
|
148500
|
Now, we can argue about how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, but there is no doubt that it takes eight spritzes of Scrubbing Bubbles bathroom cleaner, three spritzes of Lime-Away, and then a 30 second spray of Oust to incapacitat
|
148597
|
|
148522
|
It's one of the most difficult problems of aesthetic philosophy: What do we mean when we say that a song is sad? None of the big names--Aristotle, Kant, Croce–Benedetto, not Jim–come close to answering it.
|
1485176
|
...Rabidosa rabida- no spinner/
of webs but a quick and cunning
solitary hunter. Anxiety overwhelmed
|
148574
|
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.
|
148589
|
They can’t exterminate the poor just yet
|
148532
|
I don't mind being dead. It's ok. Really. I've discovered a whole new way of being based on non-being. What else can you do? I like being invisible. I like groaning and rattling chains. I used to be a writer. Still am. In fact, it might be more accurate to say that…
|
1485129
|
...it was moving toward me from an oblique angle somewhere behind, steadily, relentlessly.
|
148586
|
Before Genesis, digesting the primordial soup.
|
14851413
|
Frenchie hustled waffle irons.
|
