1220 8 0
|
She plucks two eggs from the carton, weighs and measures them with the cup of her palm, the curve of her fingers.
|
122021
|
This energy said, "Fuck it, I am going to be the fucking sun."
In it’s language it sounded more like "Khershhhhhhh Hhhhhhhhhhh Zirshhhhhhh."
|
121921
|
I look as sympathetic as I can, under the circumstance, which is entirely unsympathetic.
|
121911
|
My friend and I were once walking the aisles of a supermarket because we decided we were going to have roasted duck. We didn’t know how to cook, but as the old Filipino reds used to say: If not now, when? If we don’t learn how to cook now, as in NOW, then
|
121954
|
He switches to quantum mechanics
and starts tinkering with his sleeve
memorizing a theorem
he'd figure out
if he had the time
for a deep breath,
he takes a deep breath.
|
121920
|
Her eyes still fixed on him as if to whisper her concerns of fidelity.
|
121953
|
|
121976
|
the late snow, though not welcomed...
|
121911
|
A 20-footer up on skids
sky-blue paint beneath the bondo
|
121943
|
Today, the buxom neighbor carrying blintzes
Egged me not to care about
What’s not flat. She forgot
To bend, clanging together
Some fronts and sides.
|
121910
|
His nervous cackle makes me sick - Oh, if only - Times were different - That knife - Would fit so nicely in his back
|
121911
|
She's waiting there, for you, in bed
but the analgesic cigarette
calms your mind more than her heat.
She's there waiting, in your bed,
eyes closed, fluttering, somewhere
between the dream and practical world.
|
121900
|
I. The cowboy of my heart rides high in the saddle. Behind him, the long tail of his speeding palomino, golden — like the hair to the girls I was later to want so desperately — stands straight out from his sweating, muscular haunches. It's time.…
|
12191812
|
the epiphany at the mast at midnight is not the same at dawn
|
121963
|
Now I know
All you need is coffee
|
121965
|
She locked herself in the bathroom on our wedding night. That was my first clue that I had made a mistake.
|
121932
|
Then I see her walking down the grass aisle: my assignment. She looks nothing like the image I have been trained with, but her identifier is strong.
|
121811
|
There aren’t requirements, only expectations. I’m writing this, because, at the time it happened it seemed strange to me. People might think I’m writing because now, it makes sense, right? It doesn’t, I’ll tell you that much. I’ll also tell you what i
|
121851
|
The clip-clopping of footsteps now echoes from the opposite end of the alleyway, and as you turn to face the figure who appears behind you, the figure wearing a fierce Noh-drama mask, you determine that this time you will enlist its aid in decoding this r
|
121856
|
He opened an old book,flipping through its yellowedpages. A small piece of blue paperfell to the floor; he picked it up."Meet Tom at 4:00. Julius Bar."Standing there, Tom appearedas he sat down with the note,putting Tom back together:Tall, he remembered; Irish,green eyes…
|
121864
|
His beloved are paper-thin when he blows into the free end. Green tint from copper.
|
121844
|
"How the fucks he drivin' like that?"
|
121800
|
Those in the house don’t notice the sweaty woman on their lawn any more than they notice the Ruger LCP pistol she holds limply in her right hand.
|
1218118
|
But God could tell that Adam was still not/
right with His world, alone as he was. Alone/
is fine for a Maker of Worlds but facsimiles/
are so much less than the Original.
|
121822
|
|
121834
|
LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHINGIf you think by your death you have left me alone, to pine, to regret, to watch cable tv, you're wrong.At bedtime I wear a new black lace gown,and arrange myself to advantageon sheets finer than any we shared.I've left the…
|
121852
|
As the breeze slowly died, another breeze brought her back up, one breeze after another like the hands of God carrying her through the sky.
|
121833
|
It is dead, for a time.
Sometimes we are all dead for a time.
Our lives leave off, sleep under the weight of snow.
|
121864
|
|
121843
|
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…
|
