1436 4 3
|
I remember reading poetry in the library
/ when I was in college, after skipping
/ Sociology, Psychology, or Theology.
/ I remember thinking: What is this nonsense?
/ I don’t want to waste my time on any of this.
|
143633
|
I remember the days when my brother and I would walk down Tillman Square, careful to avoid the cracks zigzagging along the ground. Well I did. My brother made a point to step on every one.
|
143600
|
He called me Jay. I called him Dr Corvid. Until the very end, we lived alone. We had no use for any other companionship. I was Dr Corvid's finest achievement until he perfected his Disintegration Ray. I was the first working prototype of Project Novus.Dr Corvid created me…
|
143650
|
I know from the experience of too many odd sideways glances that folks are seldom interested in my brand of observation. No one else seems to wonder how many commas there are in the library or how many other people own that exact shirt.
|
143632
|
Why not just self-publish on Fictionaut and be read by thousands of my peers? Why not release my cherished work directly to my thousands of Facebook or Twitter or blog friends? Can the budding writer that I am realistically expect a larger audience?
|
143653
|
|
143600
|
I imagine Gene Simmons licking a twelve year old girl that looks like Erin dressed in a dog collar and leash.
|
143664
|
Further down a small group of men lolled near a doorway.
|
143642
|
The air smells like dream, like farm shit, like the salty stalling of evolution.
|
143674
|
I'm not sure if he's right or not but he has a gorgeous smile, he's charmingly self confident, and he's very persuasive.
|
143665
|
1. The Kingdom of MaggotsBillions of tiny naked bald men wriggle and squirm through a derelict mannequin factory.2. The Sea of KnivesThe crests of waves slice and slash. Maimed mermaids wail.3. The Eye MoonEnvious mirrors ape the sun. An astronaut falls forever into open…
|
143600
|
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.
|
143621
|
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
|
143611
|
She remembers the days when she could have purchased every card in the store and found the words to fill them all.
|
143676
|
One/
can’t always trust the eye and ear//
in such matters but what can one do?/
Mistakes will be made.
|
1436136
|
April spit its greeting, toe to head.
|
1436106
|
The new theaters require C-4 poems
|
143644
|
|
143622
|
He had that kind of connection /
with his cocktails, intimate /
sort of like a boy and his dog. //
Cocktails have in any case /
saved him from the bottom /
of many dark wells. /
|
143655
|
Years later Polyphemus still remembers the wine-soaked taste of Odysseus’s men. The barley and garlic-flavored Greeks. Their flesh a fibrous, blood-hued hummus. Their crunched bones releasing sweet marrow.
|
143574
|
It was if you memorized my ever detail but not the why.
And perhaps that is what love is. Was that love?
I lie in bed waiting for the man who came after you
to join me. I hear his heavy footsteps and know
he wants to go to Hawaii too,
when our bud
|
143520
|
it’s more about how all those words look around each other. he’s more interested in the shape of things, than the reality....
|
143522
|
The house where my brother lived up in the hills above Hollywood, looked like any other suburban house on any normal street Anywhere USA, except that once you got inside the house — spread out at your feet was a panoramic view over a canyon that was act
|
1435109
|
Your tunamelt cadence / Sank me to ocean floors
|
1435104
|
|
143542
|
Girolamo Dente was nodding off in his studio at Découvrir Art when he heard the alarm.
|
143563
|
Written within five minutes, being a parody of the artless vacuity of observational 'poetry'(By Tedward Weeney and Seamus Spews) The large wind in the treetop tells the blackbird its own voice. The yellow grainyard resounds to the clodding of my farmer's…
|
143511
|
Leaning toward Joshua, Stuart says softly, “Take it easy, okay? We’ll bury him. He shouldn’t be left here, in your kitchen.”
Joshua glares. “Don’t you fucking move him.”
|
143520
|
What I remember about my grandfather were his fart jokes. When he wasn't telling us kids about how young David defeated the mighty Goliath or how Saul the pharisee humbled himself to become Paul the Apostle, he was telling us about the baby burp that begg
|
143500
|
Those in the house don’t notice the sweaty woman on their lawn any more than they notice the Ruger LCP pistol she holds limply in her right hand.
|
