1511 1 1
|
I am only ever
What you seem to be
Without the leverage
Of sweet reality
|
151122
|
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.
|
151121
|
Be aware the dog is king, radiant, emitting many beams, renewed by and restored by his fullness, his satiety. In many ways underlying all our hearts and minds, out of our notorious youth, ever the flower of our flesh on fire like a little reed next to the dried…
|
151080
|
Beautiful, he thinks, as he taps the ash of his cigarette over the balcony, but this is not good enough.
|
151076
|
Ross, I've been a ghost hunter for almost 10 years now and this is a place I said I WOULD NEVER NEVER EVER go to!
|
151086
|
It is the fragrance of decay/
as paint, polymers and dyes/
outgas molecules of themselves
|
151012
|
indelicate, as everything arrives at once.
|
151078
|
|
1510105
|
and, under foot,//
dark caves waiting/
with their unseen pigments/
adorning forgotten walls.
|
151065
|
His shirts he hangs on the back of the chair, one on top the other so they won't wrinkle.
|
151000
|
I'd had a long, hard fall from the pinnacle of the profession. I made the mistake of accepting a mouse pad, coffee mug and a fleece pullover with the logo of Upchux, an anti-reflux drug, on the left breast where you'd get heartburn.
|
1510107
|
“What do you want for Father's Day?” she asks. “Sex,” he says, his mouth curling at the corners, “and a bottle of Shiraz.” …
|
151074
|
|
1510910
|
Fine gradations of the fractional/
fissure the eggshell whole we crave
|
151086
|
I am falling, falling out of my body,
falling like midnight onto mice.
|
151022
|
A single woman should regard every train ride as an opportunity, I once read in one of those “How to Find A Boyfriend” books. “When boarding the train, don't take the first available seat,“ the author advised. “Walk through all the cars…
|
151011
|
When people talk about the end moments when one's life flashes before his or her eyes, they often refer to time as slowing down. I can attest to this phenomenon during my final moments, before the collision: the song playing on the radio, the squeal of tires and flash of…
|
151094
|
I’m not / going to change you I /promise
|
15101410
|
Sitting together at Starbucks, we composed a long love letter which we've been mailing back and forth to each other, signing our name upon each receipt and returning it for the last nine months and it has grown to eighty seven pages, barely fitting in a shoe box.
|
1510139
|
Those who don’t die, desire, descend. No song aloft arises from my irk. The seeing chieftain, not of sea, nor sand, nor boat, I till nightfall stammer alive, dig boneless trenches against tiding dregs and lathe, hunt, wallow, plow the hours, call in awei
|
151000
|
My husband says you don’t have to tip the owner of an establishment, just employees. I never heard of that rule, and suspect it is another example of him just being cheap.
|
150920
|
One day a girl with blond hair was walking along the fence on the other side. There were just a handful of us left and I was the only one to notice her. I watched her. She did not see me. The next time I saw her, I went to the fence. I thought she might y
|
150922
|
I had the idea while I was in the county jail. I would get jail glasses; I wouldn’t be me; I’d be some other person. I could pretend that it was someone else rotting away in that 8x12 cell.
|
150994
|
The poet could not speak of himself
but only of the gradations leading toward
him and away. ~ Mark Strand
|
150951
|
“There are so few uses for Crisco, that to keep it in the house seems an unnecessary temptation,” said my health teacher.
|
150995
|
I never meant to shipwreck you,
I didn't even know I was singing out loud.
I just stood on my rock a little too boldly,
and hummed a tune you wanted to hear.
|
150985
|
Love me like a crutch
Love me when I'm strong
|
1509199
|
One moustache hair at moustache level on a filmy bathroom mirror. A red velvet spread on a big round bed. Dear Ma: We saw a bearded lady.
|
150923
|
I. Europa How else to begin but with Gustave Holst's Mars--the gods waging war in romantic twilight as drumbeats and cannons blast swathes in the gloaming and glory awaits in the halls of black smoke. A visual perhaps:…
|
1509157
|
but most times/
it’s just improvisation//
with phrases of unknown origin/
swirling in my head
|
