1385 4 4
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Charted stars by the dozens /
with a side of frizzle onions /
dawn showers us with glitter.
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138511
|
Lungs bursting in the alleyways
trying to keep with the beat.
|
138500
|
“You sure?” He nods. “Maybe it was pneuomonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.” Flash of a smile, sobbing laughter, like an abandoned seal.
|
138530
|
We were careful not to wake the kids & goodbye with a handshake & my skeleton is trapped with your universe inside.
|
138552
|
If Heaven holds forth its own Infinity, What of selves, of ours, could we stand to see? Cradled with harsh fangs of Memory, Deep forgetfulness, give rather me- Let bright dreams be our self's divinity: Forever holds, in morrow's hours, such little…
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138520
|
"The rider rode his bike in Arizona just about every day and for all the usual reasons....."
|
138410
|
At six a.m. he was awakened by the alarm on the watch, and found he could not remove it from his wrist, though he was able to turn it off. Of course, she was gone, but had left a little patchouli-scented note on a pillow.
|
138441
|
1. They Don't Know When To Fold 'Em Gambling junkies are lit on losing their ass and almost can't wait to unload their money, and then reel on home and bounce off the walls or whatever. For these guys, losing's the jackpot, and deep in the hole for…
|
138443
|
Man, this bearskin rug was a big, awkward sonofabitch on his back....
|
138400
|
He ordered a palace built, and the builders came to blows, which is why the father’s eyes have swollen shut, and the oldest son’s knuckles are bright plums.
|
138453
|
Somebody left CNN on all night long
until the news cycle flipped, crashed
and burned
in its own ruins
|
138432
|
I've been in Tucson two days, and so far most of my conversations with my father have taken place while I crane my neck and squint into the sun. I scream up, he screams down.
He needs to fix the leaky roof before the rainy season, he says.
|
138443
|
|
138433
|
WAITING FOR HURRICANE DENNIS, FLORIDA 2005 With soft eyes, she quizzed, shivered, said: “Where's Dad? Where's Ric? Will you leave me here alone? Are you all going to leave? Where's Peter? Do you feel all right? We're…
|
138400
|
One said 'Yes, I remember.' He was dark and tall and slender
A masterful pretender who laid roses on the floor
Appearing on the eve of morrow, so slow and full of sorrow
With a costume he did borrow, borrowed from the poet's lore
From the rare and rad
|
138322
|
We wait for a server to bring our coconut cream pie. His favorite. I hate coconut.
|
138320
|
2. Travel To Somewhere Fascinating, Even In Your Own Back Yard!
|
138300
|
The Moon The hatch of the lunar module hissed as it opened, a few puffs of leftover water vapor escaped toward them in a sparkling white cloud that rapidly dissolved…
|
138342
|
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
|
138341
|
She’s new, with the enthusiasm of a new person. And everyone wants the new girl.
|
138321
|
He turned metal chains to rubber with the force of his mind. He prepared tacos for the paperboy.
|
138387
|
The musician’s wife had a roving eye. He didn't care. He liked being married to a wild and crazy woman.
|
138364
|
in the pink distance / a boy in a corduroy shirt / sits before an upended electrical spindle / and drinks a vodka gimlet
|
138344
|
It was that special ache between heart and stomach that made me stop things. That ache that cannot be caused by the mere knowledge that you have steered your life into a completely wrong direction. To feel this pain, you also need to have no clue why and how it…
|
138300
|
I remember screaming and wanting to run from the living room that time you came home drunk.
|
138364
|
The voice is back! That voice, like milk and honey, like mother, like the school nurse who bandaged my scraped knee.
|
138311
|
“I want you to face the toys!”
|
138322
|
Inspired by the photographic work of Susan Lipper. Grapevine series, 1988-92.
http://susanlipper.com/gv_23.html
|
138321
|
The girl lifts my head, and I sit up straight once again. She hands me a pair of old work gloves, helps put them on my swollen hands. She wipes my face with a wet, warm towel. Her thin arms tremble. She cries. I cry.
|
138365
|
Mother hated a crucifix. Graven, she said. Evidence that Catholics weren't saved, just stuck in ceremony. Jesus had risen and anyone who had to pray in Latin, count beads or confess to robed men who took orders from a monarch didn't know…
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