1518 5 5
|
There are certain items in the sink that are giving me an anxious feeling in my stomach.
|
151842
|
In the mode of Swinburne's ‘Dolores':For the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster- A study of the notion of “Intelligent Design” Since the universe came into dawning, If e'er this bright universe did, Men ought to know better in…
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151823
|
Me sad because of results set forth in my life story.
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151732
|
I am not responsible for any nightmares this piece may cause for all you mice lovers!
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151721
|
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…
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151780
|
Beautiful, he thinks, as he taps the ash of his cigarette over the balcony, but this is not good enough.
|
151773
|
The drone of radio seeps into the car’s back seat… I hear only bits and pieces of information –
|
151783
|
You have the right to be happy
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151711
|
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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151700
|
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.
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151733
|
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151732
|
Natty looking
in his 2-tone shoes
and argyle socks
blue blazer
with 3 gold buttons
on each cuff
pale yellow
hemp or burlap
necktie, of course
with a blue shirt
(never white!!)
long mopish hair
hanging on his forehead
and a
|
151751
|
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…
|
151700
|
In the state that the stars fell on,
Love and I stumbled upon bits of God
where he forgot sky and moon, too.
|
151721
|
Their tongues were dry, her milk was gone, and the last bit of water in the plastic jug had evaporated.
|
151721
|
He and she are fucking while I watch. She's moaning deep desire and he's pounding flesh into flesh. I'm fully clothed, eyes attune to their fornication, studying. He comes inside of her; their bodies stiffen and then wriggle against one another. …
|
151711
|
A hinge in my heart is broken.
|
151685
|
Love me like a crutch
Love me when I'm strong
|
1516199
|
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.
|
151665
|
His shirts he hangs on the back of the chair, one on top the other so they won't wrinkle.
|
151642
|
Feeding you a taste of croissant
|
1516107
|
“What do you want for Father's Day?” she asks. “Sex,” he says, his mouth curling at the corners, “and a bottle of Shiraz.” …
|
151601
|
... threads are nasty things / That snag and pull and tear the cloth / And will not let me be.
|
1516127
|
We eat, sleep, play Scrabble on our iPads, and go down to breakers at sunrise and sunset. The sunset is spectacular.
|
151642
|
Years ago, I was involved in a freakish tragedy so startling and heartbreaking that it made the front page of not only my local newspaper, but “People” and “The National Enquirer.” I'm not going to tell you anything about it. This means that…
|
151663
|
|
151664
|
"...she's been seeming like she's been dreaming while awake lately..."
|
1516139
|
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
|
151600
|
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
|
151643
|
Before the paint spikes Coney Island to the wind, I walk home through the strum of a shield, colder than the one he left behind. For the hour I sprawl along the sidewalk in her laugh, crater's shadows for Wonder Wheel, he is midnight sun in The Last Waltz. Where the glow…
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