1278 3 3
|
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.
|
127800
|
She once told me that cleanliness is next to godliness, but I think everything is next to godliness, if you care enough to pay attention.
|
127822
|
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.
|
127864
|
Further down a small group of men lolled near a doorway.
|
127864
|
His beloved are paper-thin when he blows into the free end. Green tint from copper.
|
127844
|
My story begins where so many have ended, strapped fast to a cold table, just moments from a lobotomy needle and anything resembling the man that I am.
|
127822
|
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.
|
127830
|
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…
|
127843
|
Need not remember, the 6th of November.
|
127861
|
Deny yourself that pleasure
For my sake; that feeling beyond measure
That you get when you finally, and with much angst,
Decide not to be a bitch, to a round of general thanks.
|
127897
|
Thus, more people can drown//
and leave their bones
|
127700
|
Azure understood now. She felt it there as she remembered what she told Sora after her ordeal with the domed creature.
|
127772
|
The bus was almost empty, just me and an Asian girl who'd cleaned up some since I'd seen her. She was wearing a too-big T-shirt that said Freakuccino and writing in a notebook. If she remembered me she didn't say so I didn't either. Everybody sheds some…
|
127773
|
Lullaby for a dragon baby who breaks the bough with bottled fists escapes the armored cradle stealing swords from terra cotta men to slash the Ming canopy and loose the butterflies that will free
Ho Chi Minh from the fire.
|
127721
|
What the five-year-old I baby sit for wanted to do yesterday was torture his Barbies. “Why would you want to do that?” I asked.“Because we're bad guys!” said Hanina. “Can't we be good guys?”“Not today. Today we're bad…
|
127710
|
We are driving towards New Jersey, my husband and I, to pick up our seventeen-year-old daughter who is visiting her father for the weekend. As we drive there, I am suddenly reminded of how much I used to love my ex-husband, particularly when I was sevente
|
127755
|
They come to wipe themselves from my memory, but that, of course, is impossible. In this place, we are bound together, the long line of men who have killed me, and I.
|
127786
|
She wakes up lip-syncing the remnants of a dream: the throb of cherry blossoms, the whine of lotus flowers.
|
1277129
|
We perform our chosen duty— naming/
beauties and atrocities within
|
127720
|
The perfect murder, and it’s not even murder.
|
127740
|
But that last night in Europe, getting ready to fly out of Amsterdam back to the States, I heard this Phil Collins song, “In the Air Tonight,” which expressed some of the turmoil and confusion and whole-life hysteria I was feeling inside. Waves of fru
|
127611
|
"I'm just saying," the older man continues, "We oughta be ready in case she hits."
"We'll be fine," the woman says. "We've weathered every storm that's ever come through here just fine."
|
127611
|
Eating my teeth off pulling the silk from my lips and swallowing each kerchief wholejust trying to find the priest who has his heart set on a motorcycle
|
127641
|
1. They Don't Know When To Fold 'Em Gambling junkies are lit on losing their ass and almost can't wait to unload their money, and then reel on home and bounce off the walls or whatever. For these guys, losing's the jackpot, and deep in the hole for…
|
127663
|
Written within five minutes, being a parody of the artless vacuity of observational 'poetry'(By Tedward Weeney and Seamus Spews) The large wind in the treetop tells the blackbird its own voice. The yellow grainyard resounds to the clodding of my farmer's…
|
127633
|
we ran that afternoon/across Bayshore lanes/into green blooming fields, beyond all those
|
12761612
|
I am experience and information//
at a small but irredeemable remove.
|
127686
|
The bar was packed. Fascinated, Tom watched the shenanigans going on around him.
|
127676
|
One/
can’t always trust the eye and ear//
in such matters but what can one do?/
Mistakes will be made.
|
127642
|
A sizzling as skin and sinew melt, fall away. "Scream if you need to scream, child." And I scream, and her song gains strength. The warmth of her around me. It is time.
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