1276 11 6
|
Heel to toe, our bunions
are our ingrown medals.
|
127697
|
a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single
ticket
|
127684
|
In the moment
I crinkle the aluminum foil,
The sandwich now a deeper
Part of me
|
127665
|
The one at
dusk is not the one you met this morning.
That one's gone like a head in the window.
|
127685
|
Have you measured the cups, the conveyors' yield? Do you know the span? I am the LORD your God, she murmured.
|
127650
|
JOSEPH YOUNG Joseph Young You might start with the top of the head, where the heat goes. This is first, first from the womb, the first word. Joseph Young There might have been a faith that placed it in the mouth, not the…
|
127621
|
It's important to sound
human, I know
To get fragile
near your
mother
I myself
get glimpses
now and then
|
127622
|
Through void decks of apartment blocks,
Over roads on overhead bridges,
Down small streets on concrete pavements.
|
127653
|
Well, now it has fallen away some
but I felt better about it when it was raging
|
127640
|
She had endured three years of abuse for those hot, fleeting moments of tenderness—just enough warmth to keep her second-guessing the bitter frost. Now the ring promised a lifetime of biting back her pain.
|
127675
|
Everything conspires to kill you:
|
127643
|
...she had marked the stars with a blue pen, connected the dots to make Andromeda, Cassiopeia, told us of the gods behind the stars...
|
127595
|
There were ten thousand photographs buried in the bottom of the jar
|
127541
|
Endless. I find this story.Beginning. To walk.Repeating. Repeating.The Memory. Of snow.Amsterdam. Rivers narrow.Hearts. Divide.Hands. Emboldened.Patronizing. Unpatriotic.Semblance. House held open.Forging. The ties…
|
1275116
|
Unless they leave you comatose,/
it’s the disasters you remember.
|
127554
|
Is there a homunculus in my brain guiding everything like the pilot of an airliner?
|
127510
|
She became suited to herself only. She no longer tried in any way to fit, she fought the molds they created and kept moving in her own direction. Often forward, sometimes a bit backward, and she rightly scaled her own Mt. Olympus and there she sat with he
|
127544
|
"Shouldn’t I be able to easily get my arms around nothing?”
|
127510
|
Touch these words with your mind. They will create an elephant with an unidentifiable itch.
|
127520
|
Rose would have preferred to survey the wreckage alone, between sips of her earl grey, but the morning light drew her attention to blonde and jet black curls weaving into folds of fabric.
|
1275126
|
We hold fast to the bed’s corners, afraid our bodies, these new old bodies, have forgotten how to love in its center.
|
1275157
|
Cacophony of an engine-braking eighteen-wheeler/
scatters the crows to fences, trees and wires/
in a startling chant of caw, caw, caw.
|
127581
|
He was a Jack Russell terrier
hanging like a baby
in a carrier
strapped to my chest
He had all four legs
wrapped around me
and was licking me
with his long tongue
I asked him what his name
was, and in a real low voice
he said
Min
|
127522
|
We walk though the streets of London, New York, Paris, Prague, Barcelona, Skegness, inhaling air heavy with metaphors, eyes set alight by the microscopic pyrotechnics of quotidian symbols hitherto debased by the outmoded conventions of a bankrupt civilisation decomposing in…
|
127541
|
The Beatles on TV
their last show
together
as a group
and we all
knew it
smoking dope
sitting around in large
groups
in living rooms
across the universe
they sang Let It Be
and The Long and Winding Road
knowing
a man
|
127510
|
The view from the tenth floor of Ramses Hilton hotel was depressing. A restless crowd undulated between the wrecks of tanks and armored cars.
JOURNALIST: Hey! I’m dying here, and you admire the views?
|
127410
|
At six a.m. he was awakened by the alarm on the watch, and found he could not remove it from his wrist, though he was able to turn it off. Of course, she was gone, but had left a little patchouli-scented note on a pillow.
|
127451
|
a man sees salamander bands / a-cracklin on the scree
|
127411
|
The priest went into the place in those parts, the priest an old pear or grape gotten ripe and then moreso, but never actually expiring . He was hunched and it looked like he was broken at some integral part, but nobody could tell for sure where. One time, a bat…
|
127433
|
Why, these were the young hands
that I kissed only last night.
|
