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"That it was my stepdad's fault."
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134311
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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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I saw three kids the other day, two girls and a boy, crouched in conspiracy
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Salted sea of summer fingers- sand and salted skinmelt in me; vanilla ice cream lick- your lips; salty kiss saliva- sweet salt of semen run down my chin languid-salty sweat of you.
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134398
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I'm pulled in by the music
like a rogue wave
and he has no idea I'm drowning...
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134360
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Early morning cokeBottle. Did Katie callHeiddegger "Skippy"?Remember years backWhen we studied so hard andHa ha, just kidding.As you age, neverForget you are dying noFaster than before.
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134300
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The oval-shaped, pearl-white objects shimmered soundlessly in the warm sunlight. Suddenly one object veered off and headed towards them stopping to hover not twenty feet away. Suddenly their phones vibrated simultaneously. They both looked at their messa
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134321
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I woke up when the smoke alarm insisted. Either the curtains were on fire or I hadn't changed the battery.
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134365
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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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Where are you going, boy who never was?
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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.
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The retired, widowed receptionist slapped one hand to the base of her throat with a gasp . . .
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Shut up.You shut up.That's disgusting.You should talk.Fuck off.Fuck me.whore.Yes.More.Shut up.
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Every encounter is a dance, every secret has its key
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134284
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In the moment
I crinkle the aluminum foil,
The sandwich now a deeper
Part of me
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The woman tapped a dark plastic stirrer on the tabletop in front of her to emphasize something she was saying.
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134244
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"Shouldn’t I be able to easily get my arms around nothing?”
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134251
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At 19 words, the whole piece is a snippet.
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...come come come come...
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134232
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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.…
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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.
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Lips to graceful curve, / Found a well from which / This dancing lifeblood comes / (Again and again)...
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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…
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in the pink distance / a boy in a corduroy shirt / sits before an upended electrical spindle / and drinks a vodka gimlet
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I arrange my stones in circles
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In the living room of a model home, Mr. Jorgensen lived. He was a mannequin. He spent his days in display windows. He spent his commutes displaying the latest model cars.
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134211
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She remembers the days when she could have purchased every card in the store and found the words to fill them all.
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The real problem, though, was the radiator.
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You may want to pretend to leave once or twice, peeking in through a window from a darkened room, to see how they interact. Never leave a new poet unattended with the pack until you’ve determined that the new arrival has learned to fit in with the other w
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