1376 6 4
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Beware of shouting Dress Barn, Dress Barn! when having an orgasm
And don’t tell him you were seeing Starbucks when you came
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137621
|
Ben exited the uptown Broadway Local at 103rd and oriented himself.
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137600
|
[WE'LL LET *YOU* BE THE JUDGE!]
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137650
|
An expanse of trees, grass, scrub, heathers, sky, space. A grey horse, the type her gran would have placed a bet on, approaches. "Don't like flies?" he asks. He holds her gaze, walks closer. Seventeen black flies crawl over the right side of his head. "What…
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137611
|
They run nonstop for weeks. Between traffic stalled cars. Down forgotten subways tunnels drilled long ago in the cold earth. Past burning sugarcane fields.
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137620
|
If you had gotten pregnant our last time, in 1967 (when you lied and told me “I guess I’m finally over you,”) then our son could have been that man you saw with the drooping moustache and his coattails flying in the lobby of the building in Louisville,
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137623
|
I will admit it. // I cannot write poetry / to save my life—
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137600
|
I made a man of men. He made a man of me, the way all men are finished, in tragedy and sorrow. Together, we make a story, for other men, brothers and sisters.
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137655
|
My businessman does as his nature allows him. He is so cute. All day long he makes deals. He is on his phone most of the time. He raises his voice. “Fuck those fuckers, just do it,” is what he says. My businessman hedges risk on his investments by keeping…
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137611
|
I hand one of them the octopus and run out of the room.
|
137653
|
only thoughts lost in lonely trails of red
|
137610
|
As the 5 train gained momentum away from Fulton Street, Helen took her seat with the alertness and suspicion of someone who had spent the day negotiating prices with dirty fishmongers.
|
137635
|
Does God feel the same way /
whenever you practice your indifference toward me
|
137642
|
It was Wednesday, the papers had a food section that day, so the gap-toothed news hawker at the mouth of Winter Street would yell out “Foozection! Foozection!”
|
137697
|
I see them walking. They pass right by my house. If I’m outside, I sit down on our porch and watch the parade. Sometimes I watch them out of a front window.
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137600
|
He stood sopping in front of the mirror, dripping onto the limp puddle of clothing on the floor. He needed a haircut. He needed a shave. He needed to get rid of the two-fucking-inch white hair inside the helix of his right ear. He plucked it—and all the h
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137600
|
A woman confronts her suspicions about her husband's fidelity.
|
137564
|
The Traignarry Light Preservation Society meets monthly, and welcomes visitors.
|
137586
|
She cut me adrift
On an iceberg of words
And words melt
As you know
Looks like we may have
Gone out on the limb
A little too far without
A toe-hold on Reality
Doesn’t it?
But I saw the headlines:
Cows Bound for Slaughterhouse Make
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137542
|
Girolamo Dente was nodding off in his studio at Découvrir Art when he heard the alarm.
|
137544
|
|
137521
|
You hold me now, and pay attention.
Everything is new.
|
137510
|
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.
|
137594
|
As a child I drowned myself in the pages of books, and as a writer I prefer to be left alone with my imagination.
|
137584
|
Years ago when the smart of it was as nippy as this one.
|
137511
|
It was a mildly windy day of the working week in the financial district of the city—the bright morning sun was out—when a security guard was called to the fifteenth floor to deal with a disruption.
“This way.”
Someone pointed to a desk. At the desk
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137543
|
I’m just living in my RV
Guess my parking karma won
Got some pigeons for my pets
Cause I’m sorta on the run
I’m just living in my RV
And I’m not the only one
But I’m getting kinda bummed
Cause I miss my little hon
Tried to kick my gambl
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137543
|
IV. Upwards, into the white eye rising, There is will, to stay, yet stays no will to be. Come,…
|
1375119
|
I lay on a table in a cold room in one of those little blue gowns that open in back.
|
137597
|
Our half-life, radioactive decay, particles shed leaving dust and bone."twilight years", "golden age", "evening of life"?Bullshit. I'm not ready to stop pumping high octane.You said, "I'll take you to Paris."Hemingway's address is still in your notebook, I saw it.I'll wear…
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