1305 10 5
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the poems/
we never got to will remain,
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130554
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I am trying very hard to rhyme,
and trying very hard not to.
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130574
|
NO ONE CAN BE A BASTARD FOREVER
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130522
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By dawn, she is ready to hunt.
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130511
|
. . . I wanted to put Tiffany out of her misery and mine and shove her in front of the next large vehicle hurtling down the drive-through lane . . . .
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130532
|
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130511
|
“I want you to face the toys!”
|
130544
|
The face is made of cracks that move with and from what it witnesses. When I let a thought out, your face cracks too, kind of dramatically. I didn't mean to share it, you press about it though. I think of everyone else who has cracked or cracked someone else and it doesn't…
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130552
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“My name is Violet,” I add. I am trying to stop lying. Going without cigarettes has been easier.
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130566
|
Flew a Messerschmitt.
Drove a tank over people in Poland
though not in Prague,
and claimed he was never a guard
at the death camps.
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130564
|
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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130500
|
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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130554
|
|
130500
|
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
|
130552
|
Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, the Good Lord made them all.
|
130501
|
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.
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130542
|
1. Lost in the Vision Matrix, J0hn Clare transmitted a distress signal designed to be audible only to himself.2. T S El10t ran on a complex algorithm that produced seemingly fragmentary results. However, if you run Imagewise an underlying order appears.3. C0ler1dge suffered…
|
130421
|
It made him feel better to imagine she was someone else, someone he didn't know. This comfort bothered him
|
130400
|
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. …
|
130488
|
for spirits and demons have no life/
but what imagination gives
|
130421
|
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.
|
130400
|
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.
|
130430
|
He's got a rager for Casablanca, the old Bogart and Bergman classic. I can't snap him out of it.
|
130440
|
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
|
130455
|
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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130400
|
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
|
130464
|
The voice is back! That voice, like milk and honey, like mother, like the school nurse who bandaged my scraped knee.
|
130421
|
It was night. It was Massachusetts. It was an interview in a snowstorm
that Detective Vivian Diaz wished would go away.
|
130400
|
Writing books is like raising children. You do your best, nurture them, discipline them, coddle them, feed them, patch up their injuries, sing to them, try to sell them, but no matter what you do, they are what they are.
|
130411
|
I survived as a brave thought,
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