1322 11 10
|
My emulations always fail. At heart,/
I don’t want bougainvillea nor blushing pilgrims
|
132221
|
The artist with fork and trowel.
The paint; soil, seed, seedling or plug.
|
132242
|
The gated community of Dos was named for one of Babbage’s landmark educational figures, Ms. Dos.
|
132275
|
|
132298
|
Walking down an unfamiliar street, / I heard a sudden caw of crows, / some thunder afar, strums of a lute— / a streetcar came flying along.
|
132255
|
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
|
132263
|
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
|
132287
|
I ask if anyone has a poem or a story they would like to read. Everybody's hand shoots up.
|
132284
|
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.
|
132264
|
The voice is back! That voice, like milk and honey, like mother, like the school nurse who bandaged my scraped knee.
|
132222
|
Inspired by the photographic work of Susan Lipper. Grapevine series, 1988-92.
http://susanlipper.com/gv_23.html
|
132243
|
An excited state
with undiscovered borders, the almost space -
|
132222
|
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
|
132278
|
The bad optical, crossed or dead or lazy or stray
|
132252
|
Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, the Good Lord made them all.
|
132201
|
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.
|
132165
|
My dumb body
that does not speak
still
cried out your name
last night.
Did you hear it,
maybe
in your sleep?
|
132186
|
Once a friend asked me to write about rape in an email, so I wrote that it is a weapon of war that would not work here because partners do not give in to it; in fact, they would say it is infidelity in relationships.
|
132100
|
She was there then gone then there again. We were naked and wet and touching, she let me touch her, but she didn't want to be there. But she was, despite herself. It was my dream. You can go if you want. …
|
132121
|
I call beauty to me
With the architecture
Of this place
Beauty that has no doubt
Been pulled to me
All its life
|
132133
|
We are both 53 and this is the first time I’ve gotten past a third date with anyone from Match. Seth is different. I’m not sure why. My therapist said, “Well, maybe you’ll be good for each other. You both have to accept that you are recovering, or in reco
|
132122
|
A fat kid running;
the sounds of an ice-cream truck
—counterproductive.
|
132121
|
I tried to enlighten them. For my trouble, they tried to have me deprogrammed. I condemned their narrowness of mind; they pitied me my naiveté. I ridiculed their religious bourgeois complacency, but they really didn’t know what I was talking about.
|
132140
|
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
|
132140
|
Jillian speeds across the stone wall, the hem of her dress flaps violently behind her. Sometimes she stands with her back fully erect letting perpetual motion guide her down a bend with her sun blonde locks brightening the dreary sky, or she lurches her
|
132187
|
Orchids strewn over the floor...
|
132100
|
It’s a compromising situation...
The would be Bride of Christ begins perspiring
before the crowd.
Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring echoes through the antique church
just one more time,
a little loud.
With every added verse and every flickering vigi
|
132144
|
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
|
132188
|
It all began with me. I was first and for many years, the only.
|
132151
|
As a kid he had run away from the family farm and shoveled coal back East to put himself through college. Now he was just another old man in a nursing home, desperate for a drink, his blue eyes bleary, a sticky goo filming at the corners of his lips.
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