1415 7 6
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We exist to facilitate/
successful conclusions of hopeless lives.
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141521
|
So you printed your resume on this coffee cup - that’s something
- I wanted you guys to think about me every morning - while you were getting your coffee
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1415148
|
The old lady is losing her memory. She forgets people's names yet so familiar to her. A little sheepish, she takes her basket and walks to the village. Just like when her legs were young, suntanned, shapely and attractive. Along the footpath, by the shop windows, over the…
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141581
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He was a Jack Russell terrier
hanging like a baby
in a carrier
strapped to my chest
He had all four legs
wrapped around me
and was licking me
with his long tongue
I asked him what his name
was, and in a real low voice
he said
Min
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1415129
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We perform our chosen duty— naming/
beauties and atrocities within
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141533
|
I'm a heathen in the church of the absolute.
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141400
|
The white Boeing 747, all three hundred and sixty eight seats of it, prepared to depart from Johannesburg Airport. Mild conditions on a clear flight path coupled with the soothing voice of the first officer didn't allay my unease. I offered a friendly nod to the…
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141453
|
He is sitting in the infinite rain
and the water is making him some infinite silhouette
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141453
|
Her name was Christine
and she was nailed to the cross
of their lust
and their greed,
and their vengeance
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141431
|
Don’t get me wrong. Maria Shriver is hot, but her angled face makes me think a knife thrower is out to get me.
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141433
|
“Psst."I paused in my tracks as I walked in front of the building where Two Doughboys used to be.I looked around. The streets were deserted. I saw the big “For Rent” sign in the empty window where the sweet smell of pizza used to emanate. “Over…
|
141433
|
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.
|
141422
|
So young. So innocent. How do you tell a little one that her mother is dying? The father seemed to be bathing in a sea of hopelessness lately.
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141411
|
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…
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141460
|
“The first thing you must remember,” Polly tells the Levensons, “is that every penny you spend on your guests is that much less you can spend on your horses.”
|
141496
|
Tell people of substance the truth.
|
141484
|
Years ago when the smart of it was as nippy as this one.
|
141422
|
|
141488
|
I invited Henry to go out with me and Marge, suggesting he ask Ellen who he dated a while back and who still asked about him, but Henry shook his head “no” and said “out things” were just too boring at our ages — and besides, since his…
|
141400
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The moon bulges with meticulous sick amber fire while first night’s chest heaves and sputters free infantine monstrosity from plague-wormed hovels, din mold choked grottos, and stale metal-cast labyrinth catacombs.
|
1414105
|
the
unutterable
things of
this
world
|
141487
|
Orchids strewn over the floor...
|
141410
|
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.
|
141422
|
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…
|
14141110
|
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141410
|
The view from the tenth floor of Ramses Hilton hotel was depressing. A restless crowd undulated between the wrecks of tanks and armored cars.
JOURNALIST: Hey! I’m dying here, and you admire the views?
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141321
|
Butter me up, moon lover. Remember, I was once your warm and hot goddess of flowers, washed to shore with the others you may have forgotten. Now the issue of the earth gets nearer, and we can see each other once again, if only in our dreams.
Just be
|
141376
|
Whistler pounded a nuanced nail,
into our inferior foreheads.
|
1413135
|
each act of creation is a jolt of expectation
|
141322
|
thunder striking in a pancake cumulative, his building bouncing upon itself, life going Richtor Scale, a billion pounds of panic per square second
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