1208 3 2
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Goddamned crabs. He got em. Lenny. Itch. Itch. Itch. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
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1208148
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1208158
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i hear the boom boom boom
in the room room room
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120820
|
“I don't cotton much to some of the johnnie-come-lately's we get around here,” says Graham Buchter. “They're a bunch of talkers—they wear me out.”
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120832
|
...he was suddenly and hazily relieved that he had something in Persepolis and blue agave plants to talk to her about.
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120889
|
They can’t exterminate the poor just yet
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120800
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The bullet split her head in half before she could finish her sentence. Her blood sprayed out onto my face and covered my lips. The taste of life as it suddenly ended.
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1208129
|
...it was moving toward me from an oblique angle somewhere behind, steadily, relentlessly.
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120861
|
They had both discovered, though, that when people stared at them now, away from the carnival, it was very different. There, they were supposed to be odd, it was what people expected. Here, they were supposed to fit in.
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120844
|
Ben had us over, me and him and his boy, Benji, to look at the supernova. Ben was always coming up with these things with the telescope. Jupiter's moons, Saturn's rings. On his wedding night he made everybody stop dancing and run out to the golf course so he could show us…
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120800
|
Harv and Julianne He has woken here now, on this bed, and on this particular day, many times. His fifth year in the cabin, his fifth December in Helen, his fifth, he is sure, of many…
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120821
|
Only fragments of their lives survive, like broken Sapphos. I have known them, alleged killer of themselves for the love of a man., but we know this is an invention. The leader of a whole guild of girls, who wrote 7 books of poems. What happened to them
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120832
|
Of course they (the coffee and cream) were lovers, chemically made for one another, warmly exploring their partner's particles with the passion of a first kiss.
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120811
|
My mother gave her all to convince him to be a politician. My sister begged on bleeding knees for him to give her head. I just needed somebody to help me find things.
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120841
|
When I was younger, I tried very hard to be myself, but it never worked. I'd close my eyes, wait a beat, open them and slowly bring them into focus. This is the new me, the only me. Never worked, not once. It could only last a minute or two, so I…
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120754
|
The silver urn of ashes inscribed
with his unknown name.
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120745
|
I had a terribly vivid dream
where a big leaf was talking to a baby,
and the Mouseketeers had grown fat,
and my lover was passing the healing comb
through the hair of my soul during the night
as she retouched my youth,
so I could rejoin
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120751
|
A tattoo of a river steamboat, one you dreamed up in your sleep and drew yourself is anchored around your nail bed on your thumb. I paint my nails with regatta sails. The toxic fumes sting my nose. You say you're bored and take out a needle filling it with ink. I watch as…
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1207109
|
He looks outside, sees everything disappearing like crumbing cookies into what appears to be a giant mouth.
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120721
|
Soon the world is on film that is burning.
|
120732
|
Bubbling from the hairline cracks in the glossy pavement of the new Einkaufszentrum in the town of Dachau oozes a mysterious thick red substance. Not blood, the mayor insists despite chemical analyses. And keep it quiet. Just…
|
120752
|
The increasingly furrowed lines on his forehead made her stomach clench.
|
120742
|
Bobby turned black yesterday. Not like his ethnicity, or skin color. But his soul. Not his soul. Not black either. But a violet desecrating blue. That kind of blue that use to sit in the ocean, then dried up, and vanished into a big terrifying stupor. He looked at me with…
|
120767
|
The currents of events/
strip the molecules from cartilage,//
reverse polarity of ventricles—
|
12071010
|
I told her I didn't love her. She said love wasn't important; she wanted to marry a man she could respect.
|
120785
|
1I'VE BEEN looking though books of paintings and I've been thinking …
|
120676
|
Whistler pounded a nuanced nail,
into our inferior foreheads.
|
120600
|
I traced the vein that rose in her temple when she got angry all the way along her body until it ashed out varicosely on her smooth calf.
|
120641
|
This poem first appeared in “Walt’s Corner” of The Long Islander, founded by Walt Whitman in 1838.
|
120611
|
The priest went into the place in those parts, the priest an old pear or grape gotten ripe and then moreso, but never actually expiring . He was hunched and it looked like he was broken at some integral part, but nobody could tell for sure where. One time, a bat…
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