1379 4 3
|
I'm writing our initials in black sharpie on the tunnel wall. There's already people who have come before me, hundreds of pairs of Qs and As and hearts in the middle, through a small hole in the brick I can hear the French accents, spinning through, a reminder that I am…
|
137922
|
That afternoon, after I'd swallowed that weight. Felt like a sinker, one of those weights that fishermen attach to their line to make sure the line goes down far enough. Go down far enough there, and I'll find it. That's what I was on about, that I had…
|
137833
|
Life's a beach? A bitch? Same thing.
|
137800
|
these dead letters for you... and then they withdrew...
something happened on the way to shabriz...
my fingertips fell on their knees.
|
137822
|
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
|
137842
|
They sit across from each other and she smiles as if they were in a normal place.
|
137853
|
Her name was Christine
and she was nailed to the cross
of their lust
and their greed,
and their vengeance
|
137875
|
I dreamt, said the Donkey, of an apricot. An apricot the size of a heart. …
|
137820
|
I was about sixteen or seventeen when James Miller had a stroke and died. He was a friend of my father's and a preacher-guy. The last time our church had been that full was at the barbecue the weekend after the church was built. Somehow, the structure went…
|
137802
|
Looking down you wonder, when did I eat pineapple? and Am I really this awesome or am I a facsimile of something that really sucks, even if it's that 'it's so bad it's good' kind of thing? Nope, it's just bad.
|
137863
|
" . . . the government works for the aliens now, taking over the world. That's why everything's so screwed up."
|
137876
|
We exist to facilitate/
successful conclusions of hopeless lives.
|
137844
|
You are in a car speeding through Dublin towards the West year after year the journey uncoils past the same landmarks Kilmainham Jail strapped to a chair bullet to the brain on by the Rowntree Mackintosh factory where the black and yellow and orange and r
|
137864
|
"Psst! You can't hide behind a broken dream.The gardenia's hint that fills your air with her perfumed scent will remain like a residue on your mind. I wish there were an antidote I could share with you, but alas, my apothecary drawer is empty. Many times it's been my…
|
1378129
|
Your cairns/
are litter in the streets
|
137810
|
If Mad Dog were interrogated by female U.S. forces in a combat-riven no-woman’s-land to see if he was really an American, he couldn’t name the most recent WNBA champion.
|
137822
|
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…
|
137800
|
The real problem, though, was the radiator.
|
137855
|
Then I am in Washington DC impersonating an accountant.
|
137841
|
In the morning I listen through an ear-trumpet
|
137730
|
She’d picked him up at a party freshman year, calling him Danny. Until then he had always been Daniel. He’d said nothing and his name was changed.
|
137700
|
Mid-laugh, Mr. Adams caught himself. His eyes welled, flooded with guilt for chuckling at his son's funeral.
|
137720
|
She had the smile of a pixie on mushrooms in a disco ball universe, and I dug her style.
|
1377113
|
I've written of this and I've written of that, Have scriven as you have it either that or this: But if you strive against the wind when you decide to piss, They say, you'll find up firing against your hat- Like some old Brother who was broiled when…
|
137733
|
Today, I am almost entirely self-coincidental, though I still feel a lag lurking somewhere.
|
137711
|
1Paradise Lost is cast into the lake of fire. Satan tells John Milton to rewrite it in 140 characters or fewer.2Filippo Marinetti languishes in a dismal rural idyll. His hand, possessed, scrawls euphonic odes to the moon with a quill.3Henri Michaux floats through the…
|
137774
|
Near dusk today a car backfired on the street beneath my office window
|
137724
|
What
I learned/one summer/in the North East/Thessaloniki heat was. . . .
|
137722
|
We Must Save Ourselves I'm looking for my savior on subways, Is he this man pushing half himself On a skate board, from car to car, Singing I have no Legs, I have no Legs, I'm looking for my savior in coffee shops Of…
|
137722
|
|
