1116 4 3
|
The shirts hanging by the back veranda serve as our memorial to them.
|
1116104
|
Contest rules are simple. Two teams of five hunters each are established by drawing from pools of interested volunteers and selected prison inmates confined for capital crimes and illegal immigration.
|
111652
|
“My name is Violet,” I add. I am trying to stop lying. Going without cigarettes has been easier.
|
111600
|
He was lit up faintly.Standing in a room of golden proportions (which is not saying a lot), he was one stood man (which is). The only lamp, a seemingly old neon, hanging short from its chains, shone darkly above none. None but a five-feeted glass plane, upon which glossy…
|
111663
|
It was the losers’ bar in my neighborhood.
|
111631
|
“The moon is a monk,”
you said.
|
111684
|
We may think about so many things and thoughts about rain. We may think about where it is going, where it comes from.
|
111600
|
One said 'Yes, I remember.' He was dark and tall and slender
A masterful pretender who laid roses on the floor
Appearing on the eve of morrow, so slow and full of sorrow
With a costume he did borrow, borrowed from the poet's lore
From the rare and rad
|
111632
|
Kerryn saved us from ourselves really. Would you be reading this had she eaten it?
|
111541
|
Pinnacles
State Park
lying on our backs
stoned on hash
around a campfire
looking up at the
clear see-through
blue green stars
to the other side
of the universe
I know now
you are out there
I float up to
within 2
|
111542
|
Light youth
that
barely touches the
ground
|
111553
|
I've lost the remote control to my brain
|
111500
|
Ships tumble, cars crash, horns gulp water, bombs burst up from the ground in a halo of screams.
|
111534
|
My friend, drunk, spoke to me / outside a bar where we hung out; / and his eyes were red from tiredness,
|
111533
|
Nephew Joe, my old brother's son, came to fix our pipes. Strapping, strapless, hairless, tanned, he clinked with gold. He came out to us over the pipes... drip drip...I just wanted them fixed pronto. He took precious time. He cried...drip drip...I wanted him to stop. My…
|
1115125
|
My dish was slut ("all done" in Swedish). It tasted good though aroused no draft, of mutton, for example. My grandparents' bed held flat. I filed alone, in realist kitchen, reading Froeding, standing, striding, continent as gym.
|
111500
|
After dividing the sabliereand after the outliers roll away,disappear,or sit like a thrombus between two fingers,will there be enough in the dayfor you to watch the sun saginto its everyday tomb,to listen to the sagittal sighof a passing evening,to eat the last fruits of a…
|
111522
|
You are rounded just the way the mountain is, out the window. The sun sets on both of you now. Three of you, I should say: the mountain, and you, and little Frank, who is currently batting my ear because he doesn't want to be named Frank but it's for your dead father,…
|
111512
|
|
111553
|
The week before she left for Costa Rica with her new lover she called me. Often, she did this. We talked for hours. What should I pack on my trip? she asked. Setting out with him …
|
111500
|
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.
|
111520
|
What I remember about my grandfather were his fart jokes. When he wasn't telling us kids about how young David defeated the mighty Goliath or how Saul the pharisee humbled himself to become Paul the Apostle, he was telling us about the baby burp that begg
|
111555
|
The boy stared out his window, noting the suns slow and eventual passing behind the distant mountains. He saw his face reflected in the window pane and turned away. His shadow loomed…
|
111510
|
So into the woods we went, hoping to open a portal into the netherworld of make believe. I had a feeling we would see nothing, but she believed in me. At the very least I would spend a few very nice days backpacking in the wilderness.
|
111500
|
I considered my choices, then asked the question that has brought my wife so much pain over the years. "Which is cheaper?"
|
111510
|
Talking to Shakespeare by the riverside,
I am saddened by my lust for women,
how my eyes fixate on the spit that passes from top to bottom lip as they talk to me.
|
111574
|
Last night was full of little fists
|
111500
|
some are cameras, some are daggers, some are sauces pans, others are swords, and some will run off and others will burn a hole into the spot which they land.
|
111522
|
we hover black as carrion birds with a glut empty need seems to me she's fell as thee and knows exactly where we posture anxiously spitting falsehoods on cue twittering like snipes cause there's nothing left to do she might have spent her whole life just
|
11151110
|
Back then we used to dance slowly to Sam Cooke's “You Send Me” on your parquet floors, whispering about planting our vegetable garden, planning to seed the lawn with centipede grass, promising to count all the red cars that came down the street.
|
