1408 4 1
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In the morning I listen through an ear-trumpet
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140710
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He, an irregular chap,
Was known for his hat with a flap.
Had fleet feet and a very strong back.
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140700
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—They turned him into a time bomb. Listen close, and you can hear the tick-tick-tick.
—All I hear is snoring. How do you know he was brainwashed?
—Because he can’t remember a thing about the experiment.
—I can say this: If he can’t remember anyth
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140723
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the mountains did change/became looming purplish waves/their spray washes us/we rinse slow 'neath lifted waves/that must be at least this tall.
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140721
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The elephant was breakable and I know that my grandmother held her breath every time I went near it, and I was repeatedly cautioned that it was not to be played with only admired. She taught me in her own way, respect for it. She may have commented on the green with a bit…
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140721
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Roy Williams was his real name. It had been for the last 15 years. Since retiring from the Firm he’d lived innocuously in an apartment near the Old City walls of Dubrovnik doing the occasional quick job for them. You never entirely retired from the Firm.
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140720
|
Rose would have preferred to survey the wreckage alone, between sips of her earl grey, but the morning light drew her attention to blonde and jet black curls weaving into folds of fabric.
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140755
|
The blind can be a little bit
Angry now and then
Trying to be independent
They don’t want or need your help
Usually. They’re a little like bees
You have to learn to leave them alone
But I remember one day when I
Guided the fingers of Bli
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1407118
|
Since dawn doesn't understand my words, I will give them to the donkey, finely cut for him, let them ferment some time and add a few sprigs of lucerne. The donkey grazes in the meadow down the road and always welcomes me with a grin that displays his mauve gums and his…
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140773
|
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.
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140774
|
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140753
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I don't look like other poets. /
People hardly believe it when I say /
"I write poetry, sometimes. /
During lonely evenings."
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1407179
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...swallowed like a radiant yolk by an epicurean barracuda.
|
140763
|
Now I know
All you need is coffee
|
140722
|
They can’t help
Seeing a child even there
In the crude brushstrokes.
They say it is me.
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140762
|
"What have I done?
What in God's name possessed me?
Confessions of some college trouble in the 60's.
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140743
|
Hail the yellow cab the yellow one will do just fine as second condiment to the sun
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140766
|
The entire room seems waiting for me like an octopus behind a closed, chained door. The monk of the lamp knows he will get his daily turn-on if he prays loudly and just enough for it. The favorite chair has my blue dent in its punched…
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140642
|
Some great, doubtless precious;
some hollow, likely empty;
some only shards, but you never know...
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140600
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these dead letters for you... and then they withdrew...
something happened on the way to shabriz...
my fingertips fell on their knees.
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140632
|
Friday afternoon. Angelique Brody knocked Francesco’s studio door.
|
140698
|
It was cold in the church. The Lutherans were freezing to death. The Catholics brought their winter coats.
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140600
|
When not enough is left to utterThe syllables it takes to say,Goodbye--Disassembled and developed,Laid upon the ground,Like the girded gridlockOn your smog befitted brow...Goodbye.And what if I said, hello?What if I said, good day?Would it change your sunken bodyAnd repair…
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140600
|
Without light it is black.
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1406118
|
I heard a voice. It was calling me as from a far-off cloud. I listened, holding my breath, and heard it again, though fading away, barely audible. If I hadn't known my name I wouldn't have decrypted it. Three hazy syllables clearly detached with a sigh between each of them.…
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140685
|
Every encounter is a dance, every secret has its key
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140663
|
While most spread their time in other occupation, I traveled through books and grew my imagination. I knew endless bliss. I was a book eater. I would just devour books that I loved and slug through those I didn't, just to make myself eat the truths and li
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140600
|
He bounds like a lunar explorer into the Edinburgh Castle, the goofy porcelain busts glaring at him with contempt.
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140642
|
Every day from my window I saw John Brigham's dog making its way across my field. The dog picked carefully through the shorn corn stubble taking the same route, I'm guessing, it took when the stalks made a shaded rustling forest. There is a narrow path…
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140631
|
Flowing, Flown In the field stands a jealous man with fifteen eyes stored inside the cuffs of well-worn khaki pants. His pockets pull with clinking dimes…
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