1310 8 4
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131021
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I call beauty to me
With the architecture
Of this place
Beauty that has no doubt
Been pulled to me
All its life
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131065
|
|
131053
|
She is a manifold of temporal flows.
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131033
|
You're not late yet, but if you don't move now, you will be. You close the cover of your mac book, don't even finish the sentence you were working on or close down the file. What had been of the utmost importance, clutching at your…
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131042
|
So we stayed on the train admiring the time.
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131030
|
He's got a rager for Casablanca, the old Bogart and Bergman classic. I can't snap him out of it.
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131040
|
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
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131055
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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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131063
|
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
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1310127
|
When exactly does cheese go bad? it simply does not, I say.
|
131083
|
The particles of dust didn't want to be looked at
|
131022
|
In the end, he knew he wasn’t going home.
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131064
|
Light spreads its way across the sky like a drop of inkon dry cotton sheets:starts at one point and expandsas wind shufflesover bodies, seashoist your sailsand I'll throw this oneoverthe night can have itnowhear the waveshow they seem satisfiedwith their…
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131032
|
Hope is the thing playing checkers
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131052
|
Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, the Good Lord made them all.
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130986
|
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.
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130942
|
By lunch:
The dryer is an F-5 dervish of mismatched socks, blue jeans and your yellowing college T's, lovingly held onto. For a moment there is a comforting warmth and softness to their smell. In the debris strewn landscape of the living room a carcass
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130941
|
But, The Driver talked about speed. Something about pulling her off easy or we’ll blow our tires. “No telling what’s off that shoulder,” he’d say.
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130900
|
Tombstone is a tongue of stone in the mouth of the desert. The desert is a living entity. It speaks. It speaks with a tongue of stone. It says: Tombstone.
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1309116
|
Irony is written sarcasm. Sarcasm is spoken irony: the opposite of what is meant. Catholic irony in fiction seems deeper and more related to theme. Protestant irony starts with P as do other þing.
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1309128
|
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
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130922
|
By dawn, she is ready to hunt.
|
130911
|
1
Al Capone was ruling the backstreets and alleyways of Chicago during Prohibition, and we lived in a little house right next door to a speak-easy. I could peak through our curtains and see right into the bar next door when cops came in to get pai
|
130984
|
These days, you seem to disappear like bread tasted and devoured
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130932
|
All the time I'm eating I can't help but think of the many different tuna melts I have ordered in diners and coffee shops and how each of them disappointed me...
|
130961
|
I remember one time that summer I was with you (1964) going to a bar in maybe it was Melrose Park, or Northlake, or somewhere along Roosevelt Road closer to Chicago, not as far as Cicero though. I went there with a crazy gear-head named Roger Hudson, wh
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130932
|
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
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130921
|
It was night. It was Massachusetts. It was an interview in a snowstorm
that Detective Vivian Diaz wished would go away.
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130900
|
It was the woman, Mary Lou Compton, that he cared about. They would've been happily married by now if Bryce hadn't killed his Uncle Ned.
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