1271 2 1
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Ben exited the uptown Broadway Local at 103rd and oriented himself.
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127120
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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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127121
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Here and there a few bits of beauty, with the highest respect, reverence, erect with pride. Almost twice a thousand dawns, ten thousand in intimacy, the breasts, the nipples, means of the world to nourish itself, by the intimate bay.
It's almost pun
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12711210
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Sometimes I had the time right, and sometimes the place; that day, they came together.
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12711910
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got the space heater going in the desert
got a lot of space out there somewhere
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127142
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I had a friend in high school that wore a size G bra and we would take guesses on how much her tits weighed in comparison to the rest of her body. I spent a night wondering how she kept upright.
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127111
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A 20-footer up on skids
sky-blue paint beneath the bondo
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127111
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She never leaves her desk, but food appears like magic.
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127111
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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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127100
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There was much joy in Galilee, for it was not often that two marriages, not merely one, were celebrated in one ceremony.
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127122
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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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127000
|
“It’s time we moved our relationship back into an upright position,” I said.
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127033
|
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127095
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There were ten thousand photographs buried in the bottom of the jar
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127001
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Ben followed Jean-Claude’s white Fiat. Every time Ben shifted gears, he was reminded of Arris’s punch.
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1270116
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Heel to toe, our bunions
are our ingrown medals.
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127021
|
The elephant was breakable and I know that my grandmother held her breath every time I went near it, and I was repeatedly cautioned that it was not to be played with only admired. She taught me in her own way, respect for it. She may have commented on the green with a bit…
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1270188
|
he who laughs last is probably a dumbass fuck
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1270158
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Maybe it takes as much fortitude
To forget
As it does
To remember.
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127074
|
I remember going out to a restaurant with some guy and a friend of mine who brought her little boy along. And suddenly her boy said, “I want to hear the man talk.” Well, that stopped us. Smart kid, I thought. He was fed up hearing her women friends talk
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127055
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127033
|
As she slunk to her topless Mercedes
sparkling curbside, wax job hand rubbed
in Hamburg, testosterone heads turned
wishing similar treatment.
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127000
|
You ask yourself, how can you be living but dead? It is not possible. Yet it can be and it can be slightly reversible, but realistically, for most people, it is not. Living but dead, is walking in the world of the in-between. Standing with one foot on the
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127021
|
“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
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127051
|
Now that Spring has sprung I am reminded about the day a former neighbour complained about my squirrel collection. I love to feed the black squirrels that gather in my yard and she became convinced I had trained several ninja squirrels to enter her garden
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127022
|
Through void decks of apartment blocks,
Over roads on overhead bridges,
Down small streets on concrete pavements.
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127087
|
On high a centaur is pulling a yellow chicken on a sled.
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127052
|
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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127085
|
Mari thinks that's all fine and fucking dandy.
|
127000
|
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 …
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