1366 6 5
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136611
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“I want you to face the toys!”
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136643
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It starts on the Fallopian Speedway:
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136600
|
Whenever Lady Gaga took the stage,
We peons on the benches cheered for her:
She dripped of jewels and paint, and blessed sage,
Wore meat as the antithesis to fur.
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136600
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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.
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136611
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I survived as a brave thought,
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136600
|
“You sure?” He nods. “Maybe it was pneuomonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.” Flash of a smile, sobbing laughter, like an abandoned seal.
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136600
|
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
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1366115
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Somewhere in the belly of the beast
something was stirring.
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136652
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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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136522
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We wait for a server to bring our coconut cream pie. His favorite. I hate coconut.
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136500
|
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. …
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136500
|
—They turned him into a time bomb. Listen close, and you can hear the tick-tick-tick.
—All I hear is snoring. How do you know he was brainwashed?
—Because he can’t remember a thing about the experiment.
—I can say this: If he can’t remember anyth
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13651110
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My emulations always fail. At heart,/
I don’t want bougainvillea nor blushing pilgrims
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136521
|
The artist with fork and trowel.
The paint; soil, seed, seedling or plug.
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136500
|
They sat eating and looking at each other. To Ben, Claudia was certainly a handsome woman and a good bed partner, but he was getting more and more suspicious of her motives.
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136563
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Her Majesty’s Glasses
Umbilical Chord
Linger Finger
Okay Inkjet
The Dragon Flies
Horny
Free Spirit
Good Footnote
Buttery Clams
You’reUp
Empty Bladder
Star Butter
Karmic Impulse
Mr. On-the-Ve
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136500
|
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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136577
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this elegant silver wrench/
which from the opposite side/
becomes a golden Phillips-head
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136530
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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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136554
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Guttering semiotics, The jeremiads of delirium; Drinking lukewarm tea over a late candle Like Hamlet in a power-cut; Affecting his own audience of himself, Hastening soliloquies through gritted sophisms, Withered and spun to intentional…
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136531
|
Lucien Lucien Tidesquall lay almost sleeping amid the soft green grass. His eyes irradiated green midnight under vanquished brows. A plover hovered somewhere in the distance. It reminded him of a poem he had written as a teenager, a haiku that went as…
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136510
|
“Do you have a job? Are you going back to school,” I asked, you know, because I’m hip like that.
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136573
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Granddad listened to Elvis and then he would talk more or less the entire night. “Mystery Train” was Sam Phillips' song. Then Presley recorded it, but did it up different, sounded much faster so you could feel your hair blow back a bit. …
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136500
|
We both looked toward the house. We could just make out a light that was barely visible coming from the side where their bedroom window was. Slowly an evil grin appeared on Darrell's face. He looked at the knife in his hand. "This will do it!" he sa
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136577
|
The arithmetic of human experience/
is always a losing game for some. Poor Jane. Rich Dick.
|
136531
|
I’ve seen your tired souls
riding under the city
lost in the drowsiness
of morning calm commutes.
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136521
|
“What the fuck!” Duke muttered, amazed at what he was seeing in the darkened store. A thin curtain of smoke was rising from under the baseboard like an inverted waterfall. It stretched the entire length of the left wall. Holy shit, the joint's on fire! I…
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136553
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I build pedestals.It's hard workHeld together by sweat, love, and lofty thoughts - an unsound foundation.The tiniest bit of heartbreak,and it comes crashing down. Always, I blame the builder and not the vandal. The next one will be…
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136521
|
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.
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