1357 8 6
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135720
|
These are the days you wish would never end.
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135783
|
She waited on the hot, broken pavement, arm outstretched, her thumb a ticket to a distant, refracted horizon. Waves of heat danced like undulating snakes under the spell of a charmer. She pictured herself passing through them, abandoning the green of home for the…
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135743
|
It leaves on a Saturday,suddenly, while you are raking leaves or taking out the trash.Those inevitable, boring things.You do not hear it go;it's been quiet before when it left certain rooms. It no longersleeps beside you, and you learnedlong ago that the bed was…
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135772
|
and the President didn't call.
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135785
|
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135794
|
Fear I’ll be stuck here without a ladder
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135784
|
He thought of it as magic, but magic that he understood, the way a magician knows about the hidden compartments in his hat and trunks.
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135743
|
|
13571710
|
the moon tops the monolith
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135711
|
I blame you for my short temper when I go off the handle when my blood runs cold and I can't think straight I can only react. When I say things I don't mean Even if I do. But I am glad for the fire you started inside of me. That time I…
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135744
|
Marcia
Get a load of
This
I got two pictures
Of food
Of food
Marcia
You're gonna
Love it
Look at this
I got one
Of just the salt and
Pepper shaker
God
You're gonna
Love this
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135688
|
for spirits and demons have no life/
but what imagination gives
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135621
|
The artist with fork and trowel.
The paint; soil, seed, seedling or plug.
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135622
|
A fat kid running;
the sounds of an ice-cream truck
—counterproductive.
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135640
|
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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135665
|
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135664
|
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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135600
|
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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135600
|
Famus Peepul Ellen and her boy, Larson, were on the second floor of The Monsters restaurant, searching for the fortuneteller. Larson had decided her signature was a necessary addition to his autograph book. He hadn't asked for her autograph…
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135542
|
A daydreams about a woman whose name he’s forgotten next to B, who’s been drunk since afternoon.
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135531
|
NO IDEAS FROM HERE Tape The knife that tore the envelope tore the apricot. What was it? Water The boxes ranked against the open room. Watch So it was cut the water bright the tub. Say …
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1355148
|
In the evening the curtain recounts its day. Faces, images, incidents it has observed from the window. Its voice is nuanced, modulated, quivering, for it is made of lace. It appears to crochet its words with needle sounds. My eyes, during confinement, are not wide open, not…
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135511
|
õõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõ
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135510
|
machine utility of thought,
intangible aesthetic of sentiment.
|
135563
|
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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135500
|
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.
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135531
|
This is a very impromptu piece written at two in the morning based on a prompt from Meg Pokrass, who insisted the following words be used: fussyhairybloomingslipperyflutterdamppaleweedsyanking “Maxfuss” was his password, which was appropriate,…
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135566
|
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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135500
|
He was lit up faintly.Standing in a room of golden proportions (which is not saying a lot), he was one stood man (which is). The only lamp, a seemingly old neon, hanging short from its chains, shone darkly above none. None but a five-feeted glass plane, upon which glossy…
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