1267 3 4
|
My friend, drunk, spoke to me / outside a bar where we hung out; / and his eyes were red from tiredness,
|
126720
|
He did not seek a place on a cabinet, nor to impress stockholders with placards of wealth and return; he did not enumerate the downtrodden and asocial with advertised miracle treatments, or write a best seller on the markings of success. All he did, all h
|
126744
|
Once upon a time I sat in summer chairs beside cool vine walls. This was in a borough east of the major city, where families gathered in seasonal joy, by blooms fragrant, to worship the summer and its might. There is nothing diminutive about the world when one is…
|
126764
|
His beloved are paper-thin when he blows into the free end. Green tint from copper.
|
126753
|
“I can't go to sleep,” Jonathan said, laying on the doctor's couch. He counted on his fingers to keep his mind active. “I'll certainly die if I do.”
|
126711
|
. . . I wanted to put Tiffany out of her misery and mine and shove her in front of the next large vehicle hurtling down the drive-through lane . . . .
|
126783
|
The particles of dust didn't want to be looked at
|
1267102
|
Everything I understand / is in danger.
|
126785
|
Picture it-/
air not clogged with the shit//
that makes Beijing the dark joke/
of the developed world.
|
126722
|
I could have said no. I should have said no. Prudence, however, was not in the air. Fourteen minutes later I am at the door of his condo a few blocks from Pier 39. Twenty minutes later I have wriggled into his extra wetsuit and am following him on his wif
|
126730
|
After our first kiss,
a team of scientists
scrubbed away the cancer
of your lipstick.
|
126784
|
When the poet loves,/ I said, quoting the poet,/ he loves himself.
|
126665
|
My dumb body
that does not speak
still
cried out your name
last night.
Did you hear it,
maybe
in your sleep?
|
126645
|
Publisehd in Linguistic Erosionhttp://www.linguisticerosion.com/2014/08/the-frog.html When Jesus and Magdalene began to cross the sunflower field they met a group of boys, squatting before a rocky outcrop. Covered with…
|
126611
|
the sour waft of a secret
|
126633
|
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.
|
1266119
|
One night while in rehab I had a dream that I worked as a violin maker in Salzburg.
|
1266105
|
Not quite full, but bright,/
December 23rd.__
A waning moon for New Year’s Day-/
Portent?
|
126632
|
In my mind the village of 300 souls is called Nedoweska, but I confess that that's just a dreamy nickname I had for it as a boy. For various geopolitical reasons it had since become noteworthy as a historical site, though our interest was purely personal.…
|
126622
|
Robbie’s wrists itched hard, the cord was sunk in so tight his hands were bordering now on blue, now purple. Too late to matter.
|
126630
|
The first indication I had of what I look like came when a man put me back on the rack, remarking that I was too pink. Over the weeks that followed, I gained a few more ideas about my appearance from the comments of people in the shop. My photographic side had been…
|
12661612
|
I am experience and information//
at a small but irredeemable remove.
|
126611
|
On his way to his first fishing expedition in the Bay Area, the man remembered the rustle and shimmer of the willows by the muddied Jemez River in New Mexico, cold beer, the clean camaraderie of childhood friends. He walked along a path choked with greenery to the San Pablo…
|
126621
|
She positioned the mouse cursor over the word Bikini and double clicked. The hard drive of the ageing work PC chugged into life as an Excel document dragged itself onto the screen.
|
126665
|
Mother hated a crucifix. Graven, she said. Evidence that Catholics weren't saved, just stuck in ceremony. Jesus had risen and anyone who had to pray in Latin, count beads or confess to robed men who took orders from a monarch didn't know…
|
126600
|
My Mother always said that a storm was death knocking.
|
126665
|
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…
|
126642
|
Yellows and reds shed
warp and weft
bobbins of color
spooling...
|
1266115
|
Somewhere in the belly of the beast
something was stirring.
|
126633
|
cummings starts to sniff, his usual routine. He feigns aloofness while raising one wolfy leg to pee on Eliot's sneakers.
|
