1319 0 0
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Mustard stings the corner of his lips. He swipes it away with a finger, and looks closer at the hot dog. The piece of meat is ripped open like a sliced finger stuck in a doughy bandage
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131963
|
On the phone I asked my mother how she was doing.
“I’m getting old,” she said. “Going slow. But getting there. I’m ninety-four!”
My mother was always 94, when she was really 93. I remember she was 93 right after she turned 92. And 92
|
131984
|
He thought of it as magic, but magic that he understood, the way a magician knows about the hidden compartments in his hat and trunks.
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1319127
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When exactly does cheese go bad? it simply does not, I say.
|
131987
|
Orchids strewn over the floor...
|
131944
|
I may have gone
A little soft in the brain
But I swear I still see it
The angel closes the rain
Even God has to refrain
From causing us pain
When the angel closes the rain
So the angel closes the rain
At the end of time
The angel mus
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131821
|
I call beauty to me
With the architecture
Of this place
Beauty that has no doubt
Been pulled to me
All its life
|
13181110
|
My emulations always fail. At heart,/
I don’t want bougainvillea nor blushing pilgrims
|
131822
|
I have become a prisoner of my own fractured mind/ A paranoid weirdo behind the horizontal bars of window shades
|
131811
|
May is National Masturbation Month. How do I know? My pal Senior Sex Expert Joan Price is not only vigorously celebrating, but doing everything she can to spread the word.“I'm on it!” I assured her when she told me. “Thanks.”…
|
131822
|
A fat kid running;
the sounds of an ice-cream truck
—counterproductive.
|
131840
|
Living in the dark ages without language,
I think I’ve been dead long enough.
You can come out of the vast fields of night.
Come out of the vast galactic storm without light.
The darkened dreams
that speed past with their false and brightly lit
|
131894
|
Fear I’ll be stuck here without a ladder
|
131822
|
Inspired by the photographic work of Susan Lipper. Grapevine series, 1988-92.
http://susanlipper.com/gv_23.html
|
131832
|
For the camera
she smiles
otherwise not
and
only when she is
standing beside him
But for the camera?
for the crowd
for posterity
yes
For their children
for the future?
yes, again yes
a thousand times
until her face
be
|
131822
|
In the end, he knew he wasn’t going home.
|
131822
|
till the tiny death may we
remain true, me and you, to our flesh and blood and sinew, the
springs and silver in our tiny hearts with vicious teeth and a hard
bone need to fuck
|
131822
|
No one saw him arrive at the half-moon garden just south of Delancey, no one saw him hang his cage from one of the drainage pipes, but by the time the rest of us got there, the bamboo frame was already covered with silky, golden cloth that reflected the e
|
131872
|
If I should stumble into cheerfulness/
remind me of all the business models
|
131852
|
Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, the Good Lord made them all.
|
131801
|
There's no sky like that
with twisting clouds shot up into by cypress
trees that are so like dark green flames
leaping out of the earth as if a dark green
oily pool were on fire underground,
and this was all that could escape, was
its essence.
|
131765
|
My dumb body
that does not speak
still
cried out your name
last night.
Did you hear it,
maybe
in your sleep?
|
131710
|
I remember a time when Calvin, my husband, was like Winnie the Pooh and I was a jar of fine Provençal honey. No amount of my sweetness could satisfy his craving for me. He would spread me on his toast with butter at breakfast and mix me with peanut butter
|
131722
|
We wait for a server to bring our coconut cream pie. His favorite. I hate coconut.
|
131765
|
A nuclear-plant fuel rod engineer, Dimitri Kastrotov, had an axe to grind, so invented an atomic deterrent, to counterbalance mankind. He targeted the filthy rich, greedy sons of a bitch, breeding war, weapons and nukes at a reckless fever pitch After …
|
131788
|
for spirits and demons have no life/
but what imagination gives
|
131775
|
|
1317128
|
the tall, thin ectomorph sat
on the verdant, green grass
as the unclothed naked woman
on the Sunday-picnic blanket
poured white cow’s milk
into a vodka shot glass
|
131755
|
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
|
131765
|
Clasped his hands behind his head to give a moment’s thought to love and how it had never quite clarified in his mind to run pure and sweet.
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