1200 1 1
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“Okay,” Boris said, wiping his mouth, “ready to go see these paintings by Lenin? We go now.”
“Where are these paintings exactly?” Ellen of Troy (NY) asked. I didn’t mention which Troy she was from.
“I have friend in Prague,” Vladimir said. “Has sh
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120021
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Rachel Stevens is an attractive woman I notice her long fair skinned legs and think that She must wear sun block to live in Arizona And have skirts like that. Today she invites me inside, She says she has a light bulb for me to change — up high. In a friendly…
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12001813
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After her grief had subsided, the wife felt immediate relief. / Suddenly she was free to abandon or pursue loneliness
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120022
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Inspired by the photographic work of Susan Lipper. Grapevine series, 1988-92.
http://susanlipper.com/gv_23.html
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120054
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“If we had more bats we’d have fewer bugs,”
I said. She shrank back into her sweater,
and gave me a look, then a shrug.
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120055
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119965
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My dumb body
that does not speak
still
cried out your name
last night.
Did you hear it,
maybe
in your sleep?
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119910
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119994
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The poet could not speak of himself
but only of the gradations leading toward
him and away. ~ Mark Strand
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1199116
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Heel to toe, our bunions
are our ingrown medals.
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119933
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You and she might make love here, next week,
and I'll buy my own razor, switch from baths to showers.
I shave my legs in my imagination.
They, like life, are smooth.
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119931
|
She seizes my hand. I resist just enough to sense her strength.
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119910
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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
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119900
|
Inspired by "The Dunwich Horror"" by H.P. Lovecraft, this excerpt concerns the events in the life of a man who is coming to the awareness that his son has followed in his grandfather's steps and begun the process of conjuring a spirit that killed him.
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119934
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Consider this. Only a sentence ago we were complete strangers, oceans of time, distance and thought between us.
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119941
|
... and that’s the story of the Polish worker who looks like van Gogh.
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119932
|
She did not know the passage of time, for she was just a bedraggled little kitty, but she stayed behind the lattice for many rising and settings of the Sun.
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119998
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Sometimes, you compare your living situation to a prison because it makes you feel better. "At least I have a fridge," you think to yourself.
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119986
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My table offers up the gutted calf/
with carrots and potatoes yanked /
alive and whole
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119900
|
Lulls, and the gulls, amid the tides and their tears (And I join their voices and my heart is run), Though each or neither takes no part in my fears, I join no hands with the beach or the years (And the ships slip near plus yon). Held handfast,…
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119965
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Before you tripped on the third rail, you were like any other: coat a shard of midnight-blue, eyes filled with gratitude but for nothing. You were a lost coyote on a snowy hill. With sad magnificence you wandered, terrorizing passengers who secretly wished to pat your…
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119975
|
Everything conspires to kill you:
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1199189
|
Each day, I lose more words-/
nouns and verbs- but especially//
proper names. People and places
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119853
|
We took our turn at the younger stage. One good turn deserves another and all that crap. But does it always have to strong-arm the world's latest lovers apart with so much pushed and shoved ultra violence?So far…
|
11981110
|
My emulations always fail. At heart,/
I don’t want bougainvillea nor blushing pilgrims
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119811
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While Leif was still very young, his emotions were very easy to read, for they appeared on his parchment coloured skin, named in his mother's writing. When he was seventeen, Leif fell in love. She was a pretty maid, one of the college servants who kept his…
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119853
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The week before she left for Costa Rica with her new lover she called me. Often, she did this. We talked for hours. What should I pack on my trip? she asked. Setting out with him …
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119831
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Flowing, Flown In the field stands a jealous man with fifteen eyes stored inside the cuffs of well-worn khaki pants. His pockets pull with clinking dimes…
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119840
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Living in the dark ages without language,
I think I’ve been dead long enough.
You can come out of the vast fields of night.
Come out of the vast galactic storm without light.
The darkened dreams
that speed past with their false and brightly lit
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119821
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Wild bore the wind down on me, coming out of the heavens that turned around the stars of the evening. The longing and the appetite at work in the body, all tickling to open a girl’s mane, gaping, health-giving crossroads to the body. Hail and farewell t
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