1408 3 1
|
She seizes my hand. I resist just enough to sense her strength.
|
140863
|
...my books have lots of swear words. So there's that.
|
140844
|
|
140833
|
we ran that afternoon/across Bayshore lanes/into green blooming fields, beyond all those
|
140842
|
there is a tunnel / between your skin and the ground / for kisses to crawl
|
140874
|
I'm not sure if he's right or not but he has a gorgeous smile, he's charmingly self confident, and he's very persuasive.
|
140894
|
As a child I drowned myself in the pages of books, and as a writer I prefer to be left alone with my imagination.
|
140811
|
I hand one of them the octopus and run out of the room.
|
140874
|
Jim Morrison moved
ever so slightly
in the cold of his grave
|
140841
|
Tiny skiers look like beetles/on a white bedspread. /We watch them fall to earth from/the high peaks and tell ourselves
this is the week that sealed it
|
1408119
|
I lay on a table in a cold room in one of those little blue gowns that open in back.
|
140811
|
Hands and fingers feeling down
Cross the boundaries I laid
|
140850
|
She sat Indian style against the strawberry tree. In her hand she held a little mirror and a note that her father left her that morning.
What a night, eh? See you in the morning.
That’s what it said.
|
140800
|
What do you mean dope in the front seat. I always keep my dope in the trunk. I mean hey, children DO steal.
|
140851
|
The roses ask for you when I smell them
They seem to remember your touch more than
others. They can’t bear it when you’re gone
and wonder when you’ll be returning
I am beginning to do the same
I no longer go outdoors to be with them
|
140766
|
Winter will be cold this year, you tell her. You read that. She says she is with child with her new husband. You tell her she's forty-five, it is selfish. The baby. It's fine. You demand to be at her tests. Evan may let you, she says. He's a doll. She would never use that…
|
140712
|
“Help us, help us,” the children are saying. “They’ll come back. Help us. They bite.”
|
140700
|
A sort of invocation of the open sky, in contradistinction to the dark of the Earth whence came the specimens, a figurative marriage of the literal darkness of exploration and the figurative light of knowledge.
|
140764
|
i am two / one part me / another part them
|
140700
|
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh; the rhythmic thrust of Mezereon’s wings…Th-Bumm, th-bumm, th-bumm; the drumming of his heart…Hooou, hooou, hooou; the exhalations of his breath…
|
140722
|
For Takama this created the second conundrum of the day. One even bigger than the first. When he’d first learnt that sensei and he would be boarding a flight together for a series of demonstrations in Geneva, little had he expected he would be locked up i
|
140720
|
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
|
140700
|
The other night at work, some kid was in for swallowing a snail's shell. He was nine and, according to the computer, did not have cognitive insufficiency. That last bit was probably put there to make us all not feel guilty about laughing at him.
|
140742
|
Frank was happy to leave the art show and take the train back to SoHo.
|
140711
|
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
|
140731
|
I know you through the rich dark brown soilcrumbling in my fingers like chocolate cake.I imagine you nurtured bell-shaped papayas,coaxing their smooth, leathery skinfrom green to yellow,while mangoes, the colors of the island sunset,hung with their tantalizing sweet…
|
140743
|
IV. Upwards, into the white eye rising, There is will, to stay, yet stays no will to be. Come,…
|
140741
|
I was like a bullet shot from a university tower
|
140785
|
Picture it-/
air not clogged with the shit//
that makes Beijing the dark joke/
of the developed world.
|
140722
|
I’m just your ordinary poem,
|
