1475 13 8
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inside i know my heart rattles
cause outside i'm only seeing
that the truth is in tatters
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147523
|
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:…
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147565
|
His shirts he hangs on the back of the chair, one on top the other so they won't wrinkle.
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147542
|
Feeding you a taste of croissant
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147522
|
As I fall to the ground I realize that in a few moments I will be experiencing a new kind of pain. The last pain. The last pain I will ever feel.
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147564
|
"...she's been seeming like she's been dreaming while awake lately..."
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147594
|
I’m not / going to change you I /promise
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147511
|
an elongating boy with butter-yellow flecks in his eyes, and skin patched like a tabby.
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147553
|
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1475169
|
Our disappearance would register/
as the movement of a sand grain/
on a windy beach full of sand.
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14751812
|
the epiphany at the mast at midnight is not the same at dawn
|
147566
|
Then I did the same to you, inhaling your scent which was one thing at your hairline and another at your collarbone.
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147543
|
In the end nothing could bring him back because I tried. All those weeks and months, yet all I have left are the tears and memories. He said when he asked the final questions to those in charge he was confused.
|
1475105
|
If I could say only one thing more to Tony who died a month ago, there is one thing I could find to say
|
147522
|
Happy Birthday to me.
It takes just a second on waking to remember,
It's June but it feels like December.
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147500
|
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.
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147454
|
The silver urn of ashes inscribed
with his unknown name.
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147464
|
The sad march goes ever on. It stretches endlessly over an eternity of painful hills, as unnatural as lumps under the skin, into the deserted broken down streets, the forgotten unprotected alleyways, always adding more and more lost children to…
|
147421
|
Despite the newly bright bricks and the working clock, Cassie couldn't help but take a deep breath before entering King Street Station. She had always tried to hold her breath when her family cut through it on the way to Mariners games but had never succeeded, not…
|
147454
|
In the words of that great philosopher Hunter S. Thompson, "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."
|
147482
|
She wore no bra. As she jammed the truck into park and pushed against the heavy door, he saw the points of her nipples against her dress. Ice filled his belly, the most beautiful pink-colored ice.
|
147411
|
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…
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147442
|
A walled city doesn’t let you out any more easily that it has let you in earlier.
|
147411
|
*Must have excellent communication skills and be able to talk pretty good.
|
147432
|
My pain is a black pearl hidden in a clean shell.
|
147485
|
Perhaps my grandparents, Fred and Lela, when they were growing up....
|
147444
|
From the rumple of pre-dawn Queens, sure South on 95, to almost Savannah by dark; still cold, but we’re full of what’s coming:
|
147451
|
A tissue, she was saying - hand me a tissue. Her seat belt was locked and she was rocking back and forth in it cinching wrinkles into her favorite blue silk blouse. I can't remember her wearing anything else. Her hands were gesturing - on and on- an endless loop…
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147400
|
I
A sparklerman zig-zagged across the skies, re-arranging stars in its path. How bright his stick-like and jaggy limbs twinkle, I noticed; even noticing my surprise. No longer 'simply sitting', I was.
'It is time' I mumbled. The room was melting, si
|
147400
|
Today is the last day of the semester. It also marks the end of my tenth year as what is referred to as an adjunct, an appendage, a necessary but unidentifiable tentacle in the College of Architecture at Andreas Tangen University in Los Angeles.
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