1319 8 7
|
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
|
1318126
|
Crouching like little children in a game of hide & seek, we entered the old house, slowly
|
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.
|
131821
|
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.
|
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
|
1318127
|
When exactly does cheese go bad? it simply does not, I say.
|
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
|
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
|
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?
|
131722
|
We wait for a server to bring our coconut cream pie. His favorite. I hate coconut.
|
131766
|
I'd like to grow you a new flower. I thinkmaybe I just will. Right now. Here's as good a place as any. Well you'll probably never get to see it, but it will be there just the same and it will be all yours. Kind of like these poems that I make if…
|
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
|
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
|
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.
|
131731
|
The Campus Socialists
Paul and Mary Jo lived in an apartment at the top of a long, dark flight of stairs that were so high, I remember as if it were yesterday thinking, the night she pushed him down the stairs, he would surely be dead by the time h
|
131794
|
Fear I’ll be stuck here without a ladder
|
131764
|
The voice is back! That voice, like milk and honey, like mother, like the school nurse who bandaged my scraped knee.
|
131722
|
In the end, he knew he wasn’t going home.
|
131722
|
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
|
131772
|
If I should stumble into cheerfulness/
remind me of all the business models
|
131752
|
Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, the Good Lord made them all.
|
131610
|
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
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