1093 3 3
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. . . we agree that formal standards for identifying literary merit exist and are capable of being discerned, not merely of being ascribed. —but is this itself true?
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109353
|
Well, now it has fallen away some
but I felt better about it when it was raging
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109351
|
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109300
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I hate buying shirts. There's no point. You need a shirt, you go to the library.
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109342
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Frank left Michiko’s building and walked into Central Park.
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109332
|
Then I see her walking down the grass aisle: my assignment. She looks nothing like the image I have been trained with, but her identifier is strong.
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109311
|
Easter the emerald parlor remembered, come yourself to convince me now impose yourself firm to the maroon furrow that is my heart. Interloper, make your mayhem here, where I have been miserable -…
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109200
|
...I made the mistake, thinking the point of a maze was to go in one side and out the other.
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109222
|
1. Having made Alice from one of the Mad Hatter's ribs, Humpty Dumpty told her she could do anything, except speak. “How bothersome!” she said.2. In the church, Alice was horrified to be presented with a talking lamb. “EAT ME!” it bleated and, as the…
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109201
|
I told him that the beehive he had for a brain was overpopulated and that he couldn’t seem to go for one minute without desperately thinking that I was going to leave him when I’m sure I gave him no evidence to that effect at all
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109232
|
Falling asleep remembering lies that had been built around lies
Lies to impress people
Lies to make life more convenient
Lies, I didn’t even know why I told them.
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109210
|
“Well” I say. “What do you think about the dilemma of a guy who’s tortured by a history of incest and bondage?”
“Depends” Says Al. “On who was cested and who was bonded.
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109296
|
" No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing."--T.S. EliotI think, okay now I know, the poem's starting to wear off. But I'm alive, at least…
|
109200
|
There was a motley assortment of customers in the restaurant. Mostly casually dressed young men and women who looked like freelancers of some persuasion.
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109222
|
He cleaned off the pump with a steel brush. Then he took it out to the pressure washer. Out there was where a lady that looked like a witch used to move around and sit on the fences like a crow. The air was humid, and the men were dressed in heavy blue coveralls.…
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109231
|
First movement I. The town that I…
|
109231
|
He's gonna find he wasn't born lucky after all, his propaganda has got up on the wrong side of the bed and sidled onto the couch.
|
109221
|
It was in the good and strange middle spring and the rain kept announcing itself on the doorsteps and the railings of the town. As it bounced off of infrastructure and the top of eighteen wheeled trucks, rather than die little deaths, the drops found their way into the…
|
109275
|
|
109220
|
Originally published on Six Sentences:He walked out of the hotel lobby into the pre-dawn night and thought about another woman, a pretty Spanish woman, not the woman he'd just kissed in a hotel, and a night he'd spent with her in Portugal, wanting each other desperately,…
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109220
|
Poets die every day but are seldom in position to put the experience to literary merit.
|
109200
|
You need only one who notices.
|
109255
|
They’ve deduced she’s still of sound mind and body. What do they know?
|
109260
|
Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my…
|
109253
|
Could even drift off to
New Orleans for a slow sip
of a hurricane
|
109235
|
I just picked up and
went to Rome
when I was young and beautiful
When I was young and beautiful
I played with life
like it didn’t matter or exist
When I was young and beautiful
I never failed
Beach nudity
Etc
Didn’t move me
But d
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109233
|
Ymir used to be a big nothing;Now he's everything.His hair is the grass, the trees, the reedsHis scalp is the desertHis skull is the empty vault of spaceHis brain is telecommunicationsHis skin is a reality made of matter and miragesHis forehead is the Ten CommandmentsHis…
|
109145
|
Is there anything more emphatic than an ovary?
|
10911210
|
|
109150
|
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.
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