1279 8 4
|
Years ago when the smart of it was as nippy as this one.
|
127921
|
So you printed your resume on this coffee cup - that’s something
- I wanted you guys to think about me every morning - while you were getting your coffee
|
127943
|
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.
|
127973
|
Not the torn magazine page, not the smell of ink, not the sweat of palm nor the froth of irish spring
|
127954
|
Johnny K. didn't much like taking his exotic drugs any more. He now thought that the common reality was already an intense enough trip without wrapping it all up in enough gauze to cause permanent daydreams to the head. He liked his cheap hamburgers…
|
127942
|
Story of my life: I was ready for a nightcap and she was just beginning her night.
|
127900
|
Picnicking In Mt. Misery Cemetery We breathe the damp shade, plum trees shining in a woodland where there are few wrong things I want to remember-- the steel fence of the power company blazing under an arc light is one. On this day of ripening fruit …
|
127832
|
"Don't pull too hard," warned Father. "You might sever it from the body, spraying blood into your eyes."
|
127876
|
Whistler pounded a nuanced nail,
into our inferior foreheads.
|
127853
|
Your face seems faint against the violet glades; The long winds echo once, then fail to start. Some wounding scent has stripped my hopes apart That dwelled to scent you. From the cavalcades The leaves make, bare at times since eve's sting fades To…
|
127886
|
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
|
127801
|
Ben followed Jean-Claude’s white Fiat. Every time Ben shifted gears, he was reminded of Arris’s punch.
|
127853
|
Her name was Christine
and she was nailed to the cross
of their lust
and their greed,
and their vengeance
|
127843
|
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.
|
127800
|
We at Cahiers must continually ask–is le cinema de kung fu pimping really, truly—as bad as it wanna be?
|
127811
|
I pulled at her shirt like a slot machine.
|
127822
|
They watch her, scald her skin with hot eyes whose stares run up and down her body like lice.
|
127800
|
I know I used to say I’d rather walk on the moon with my own rapacity. And you can easily say things like that, given the luxuriance of youth. But it was a lie, if you want to know the truth. That is only so much hot balloon air, puffed up in the chest,
|
127811
|
A horn honks, brakes squeal, Chloe’s screaming, pulling at her. She’s lying on the sidewalk. Her shin hurts. Her knee. Chloe kneels beside her. Ring of kids staring. I’m good, she says. I’m good.
|
127800
|
if i could i would leave/ my beating heart like flowers/ pumping blood upon your doorstep/ in gory testament/ to the way you make me feel.
|
127821
|
“You think it’s a self-castrating suicide note or a self-righteous freedom speech?”
“Probably just the ramblings of a madman, pissed he lost a company baseball game.”
“Fuckin-A, Pete! Double-murder suicide for a baseball game? Ain’t nobody that craz
|
1278145
|
I suggested when we passed the flesh shack that we turn around and that I go in and say to the sex workers that the Russians are fetching $3.5K per hour in Manhattan and it's private, unlike there at that road-side shack.
|
127832
|
Hi de ho, and hey, hey, hey; The farmer's daughter is made of hay. I went to touch her but she blew away, And noo ma hert is nae langer gay. Hi de hoo, and how do you do? The farmer's wife has a cold up her flue, And takes me away…
|
127810
|
His nervous cackle makes me sick - Oh, if only - Times were different - That knife - Would fit so nicely in his back
|
127831
|
I awake to find a heavy chain shackled around my ankle. I try to remove it but cannot. The length of the chain runs through my apartment, sometimes coiling around itself, but eventually leading out my front door.
|
127842
|
you happen to me like motorcycle tricks
|
127866
|
state a shambles, mountains and rivers endure./meanwhile, the city hides amidst spring's thick growth . . .
|
127842
|
Frank left Michiko’s building and walked into Central Park.
|
127800
|
The mist monster leaned over the building, drawing its face close to Mayumi. Its’ lavender eyes locked onto the Magi as she stood there ignoring Rumiko’s calls to flee.
|
12781110
|
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.
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