1274 3 2
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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…
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127466
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I polished his shoes to an avid black; sewed buttons backand mended torn silk and cotton.His clothing was my busy work. Needle, thread, stitch, and iron,I was his apothecary of linens.Blood, wine, soup, vomit --these I cleaned too, until all theircolor and scent…
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127422
|
This is the record of a drowning.
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127433
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WAITING FOR HURRICANE DENNIS, FLORIDA 2005 With soft eyes, she quizzed, shivered, said: “Where's Dad? Where's Ric? Will you leave me here alone? Are you all going to leave? Where's Peter? Do you feel all right? We're…
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127442
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Story of my life: I was ready for a nightcap and she was just beginning her night.
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1274810
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The floor dissolves beneath us, pierced by lasered/
glare of countless eye-beams.
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127421
|
You sleep. The time is soft and slow.
Your dreams are covered with the snow.
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127400
|
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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127342
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No freebies. You want to read it, you have to read all of it.
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127332
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"Don't pull too hard," warned Father. "You might sever it from the body, spraying blood into your eyes."
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127333
|
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127376
|
Whistler pounded a nuanced nail,
into our inferior foreheads.
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127320
|
The story of a second, a stone, and an android -- all curiously interrelated and all, coincidentally, named Gretchen
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127301
|
Ben followed Jean-Claude’s white Fiat. Every time Ben shifted gears, he was reminded of Arris’s punch.
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127300
|
It’s just another
Day where I feel tired, but I
Don’t know why it’s so.
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1273158
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Maybe it takes as much fortitude
To forget
As it does
To remember.
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127333
|
Today, I am almost entirely self-coincidental, though I still feel a lag lurking somewhere.
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127320
|
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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127300
|
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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127322
|
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
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127342
|
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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1273118
|
In time's embroidery, the human storyis a short stretch of a short strand within the thread of half a knot-and that stretch of strand's defective. What will mourn us when we're gone?Not the plants which live so lightly on the earth.Not the scorpions and not the ants.Perhaps…
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127321
|
son a superfly/alligator shoe clad/networking man/working a beeper and flip phone/twisting blueberry spliffs/on ma's porch
|
127351
|
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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127322
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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.
|
127344
|
|
127312
|
To stop myself from imagining myself/ kissing you on your face, feeling your/
eyelashes on my lips as I pass over them,/
I imagine myself murdering you with/
an axe instead...
|
127385
|
Mari thinks that's all fine and fucking dandy.
|
127373
|
Not the torn magazine page, not the smell of ink, not the sweat of palm nor the froth of irish spring
|
127300
|
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.
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