1290 4 2
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The air smells like dream, like farm shit, like the salty stalling of evolution.
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129021
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Something’s been eating at my craw. I’m just going to go ahead and spill it all out. You ever hear about Poetry Whores? Well, let me tell you a little about them, because if I don’t, then who will? I’m not going to name names. You can pretty much guess
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1290126
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129022
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Quickly enough, it became clear, however, that this was really all about offers you could not refuse, allegations you could not contest, arrests you could not understand and acts you would not survive.
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129086
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One by one the hundred matte black drones hummed awake. The buzz was loud on the tiny airfield but died out soon among the waving amber heads of Kansas wheat that surrounded the unsigned base.
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1290136
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April spit its greeting, toe to head.
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129042
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She sat in a tall chair and there was only one time in the interview that she took her sunglasses off. She didn't really take them off, but just pulled them down for an instant with thumb and forefinger in order to look out at something going past the window. They said…
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128933
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128920
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It's advertised as a romance. The poster shows a Sudanese woman with a child at her side collecting gum from Acacia trees.
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1289106
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The screen door slowly opened. I was expecting the second / coming of perfection.
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128941
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I want you to tell me the truth, she said. The whole fucking truth.
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128943
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Cliffs are not all I've known, but I've seen them every day since I came to light. When I first broke out of the shell that protected me from feet and poisons, I pushed my way into darkness. It was soil. I could not have survived if it was light, and when I surfaced there…
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128900
|
she flips
you a smile and a white plastic menu, and all the blood in
your head, and upper body rushes to your crouch, and god-all-
mighty, space aliens from the planet Vanna White could be landing in their unnumbered hoards in the parking lot, and all
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128922
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128932
|
Franz Kafka opens the refrigerator
And removes a bowl of jello
With the face of Bella Abzug in it
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128964
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in the pink distance / a boy in a corduroy shirt / sits before an upended electrical spindle / and drinks a vodka gimlet
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128922
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At the Winslow Funeral Home in Winslow, Arizona, just like in the Eagles’ 70s song “Take It Easy,” only I’m not taking it easy.
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128950
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You wouldn’t believe an organ the size of a heart could scream like a nine-year-old sissy girl but mine did.
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128952
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i once knew a place where lost souls gathered. there were various itinerants and the ill-intentioned, the malevolent and hard-hearted. but there were also many good ones and that was a type of charm upon the area. good souls can be lost also, and this is what some…
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128811
|
“Forever you will be mine” she said to me, and of course I did not believe her. She was a romantic and so was I, and such words habitually dripped out of her lovely mouth like honey from the comb, in a never-ending flow of flattery which I am ashamed to s
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128800
|
During the hangover, I crawl to my desktop computer and then Google “rapid STI testing” and “speedy divorce”
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128821
|
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128820
|
Her eyes still fixed on him as if to whisper her concerns of fidelity.
|
128853
|
Her name was Christine
and she was nailed to the cross
of their lust
and their greed,
and their vengeance
|
128843
|
No, no mother’s tenderness: she shows no sign of that … Do you know that she has them make their own bed? No, not the girl: the boys too! Yes, the boys. She humiliates them.
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128844
|
But my point is, this isn’t a Thomas Kinkade. It’s not like you can pay me fifty dollars and I can drive to the Twombly store and buy another Twombly.
|
128842
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128822
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The Argument: A couple of young female lovers, one slightly older than the other one, decide to part ways. The elder has contracted a terminal illness, and they decide the best way to part ways would be by joining together through a suicide pact.…
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128810
|
He is underneath them. His head is like the head of a worm.
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128811
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“And what kind of man would prefer all these dusty old books to my physical form? Who would memorize archaic incantations, when he could be whispering in my ear? Why search for the ancient splendors of metaphor, when one could be searching for the ...
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