1137 4 4
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Feelin’, feelin’ good, down-fallin’ down/rain, rain, rain came today,/wet alfresco alchemy
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113622
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Reading magazines this week, I learned that:Sally Field dislikes gefilte fish.(Vanity Fair, 3/16)Pornhub, an explicit-video-sharing site, gets 2.4 million visitors per HOUR. (Time, 4.11.16)There are 641 million obese people in the world today. (Time,…
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1136109
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Your tunamelt cadence / Sank me to ocean floors
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113664
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Mum and Dad are dead, though I'm the only person who has noticed. They're sipping their tea in the kitchen. Dad keeps coughing up maggots. Mum's face looks like a cracked mirror: I see myself in it, broken, dark. My brothers carry on as normal. They huddle by the TV,…
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113642
|
They sit across from each other and she smiles as if they were in a normal place.
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113641
|
Dear Friend:
As a visitor to Wonderland in the past, you are truly among our most treasured friends. It is the enthusiasm for whimsy such as yours that spurs us to continue to provide perplexing chaos for which we are so widely esteemed, the better to
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113641
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This poem first appeared in “Walt’s Corner” of The Long Islander, founded by Walt Whitman in 1838.
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113612
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indelicate, as everything arrives at once.
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113621
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The muezzin calls the faithful,
his voice soaring over the rooftops,
over the trees and the brooks,
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1136103
|
They're haunting me with every spotting. They're convincing me they'd be the unexpected blessing. They're confusing me when I look at my already-children, taking on the shape of this one's face, that one's gestures. We've been…
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113665
|
The one at
dusk is not the one you met this morning.
That one's gone like a head in the window.
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113697
|
Savvy as a nine-year-old playing poker with high rollers in Las Vegas, that was Paulie. She'd finally thrown Dick Weasel out the night before, but that morning Diana'd shot down their plan of sharing the house in a “man-free”…
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113610
|
Us kids in left field steal out bedroom windows after dark to pinch hit Lucky Strikes between first and second fingers, arc the glow of shop-lifted hot-boxed cigarettes over the chain link homerun fence sprawl on perfectly ridiculous grass passing a bottle…
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113600
|
His left hand is still clutching the blue Bic lighter in his pocket, rubbing it slowly but firmly. Anticipation is building, filling Theodore up like a combustible gas inside of a too-small container.
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1136129
|
...it was moving toward me from an oblique angle somewhere behind, steadily, relentlessly.
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113634
|
Ascent/Assent
Together the horizon/
Catechism of love
|
113600
|
Famus Peepul Ellen and her boy, Larson, were on the second floor of The Monsters restaurant, searching for the fortuneteller. Larson had decided her signature was a necessary addition to his autograph book. He hadn't asked for her autograph…
|
113698
|
We can’t just bomb Berlin or Dresden,/
Nagasaki or Hanoi, to make things safe
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113521
|
I look as sympathetic as I can, under the circumstance, which is entirely unsympathetic.
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113531
|
Far away or up close, she appeared just like anyone else, a young woman with pale arms and legs and a milk-face unblemished by a single freckle or pimple or blotch. Only when she turned a certain way did it become clear that what rested atop her muscle an
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113586
|
It must be nice not to have to worry About certain things because those things are not yet In your circle, or in your circus, of life. I don't begrudge you for being almost grown in A much different, sweeter place and time. I'm thrilled By…
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113510
|
Another noise, softer than the first: swish, thud. You are still. The house is very loud tonight.
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113563
|
Written within five minutes, being a parody of the artless vacuity of observational 'poetry'(By Tedward Weeney and Seamus Spews) The large wind in the treetop tells the blackbird its own voice. The yellow grainyard resounds to the clodding of my farmer's…
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113531
|
They’re coming now. Thousands of them. Black wings, antennas, spindly legs.
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11351811
|
It could be fun,/
with the guns, explosives, Molotov/
Cocktails and all,
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113524
|
What
I learned/one summer/in the North East/Thessaloniki heat was. . . .
|
113532
|
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…
|
113522
|
Through void decks of apartment blocks,
Over roads on overhead bridges,
Down small streets on concrete pavements.
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113552
|
The increasingly furrowed lines on his forehead made her stomach clench.
|
113522
|
a disease/ like junk-sickness/ like a jealous lover/ who discovers competition/ and meets it with a blade/ in your heart,/ not hers.
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