1407 6 6
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The moon, a cataract cloaked in its charcoal fog, slowly seeps among the trees; night's unguent.Its glance is constant and white,its arc known. I watch its brow of bone with constant wonder.The long, slow funeral of America is taking its time; its…
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140733
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I'm the first child she ever knew that couldn't sing.
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1407139
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140711
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always thought you'd show up with a good friendly grin, your heart full of gnosis and the rest of you dressed in denim or terrene hues,back from across the world to honor our sacrosanct thing maybe it would be in the wind chiseled afternoon,or the dusk by tables…
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140722
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I still wake up with a start to this day, remembering the sound of that squish. And the cheer from above of all the brutes hanging out the open castle window. And of course the roar of approval and delight from the hordes of Chinese, Russian, and Germ
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140720
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Originally published on Six Sentences:He walked out of the hotel lobby into the pre-dawn night and thought about another woman, a pretty Spanish woman, not the woman he'd just kissed in a hotel, and a night he'd spent with her in Portugal, wanting each other desperately,…
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140731
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My first time alone with the women in Saudi Arabia...
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140700
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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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1407122
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full of mad hope / we dash into the street / leap into the fray / and enter splendiferous lists
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140730
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On his knees in front of the transplant board, he pleaded for his ailing heart, spluttering on its last dying beats, to be replaced with a bomb.
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140686
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140600
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This tanka poem was inspired by news report that the Macy's of "Miracle on 34th Street" fame has a white Santa in front and a black Santa in back.
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1406116
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Ok, so I know this guy, he's a friend of mine. A good friend, even though I think he's left too big a tip on the bar more than once. His name is Frank.
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140641
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She’s new, with the enthusiasm of a new person. And everyone wants the new girl.
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140685
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I know you probably don’t want to hear any more of this nudist stuff about my family and all, but this Reamer guy was a red-faced German boozehound if there ever was one. He married my brother’s ex-wife Beryl, after Harris left her to her cheap red jug wi
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140643
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Man, this bearskin rug was a big, awkward sonofabitch on his back....
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140631
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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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140600
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‘Grace’ was eliminated sometime in year b.s. (Before Seat) 12, for bottlenecking Productivity and holding back Progress.
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1406178
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140620
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These fern-like weeds grow along the roads. “Watch this,” you say, bending down over a plant. The touch of your fingertip sets it recoiling, stunned–a fun, jungle trick you picked up somewhere along your way.
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140553
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—Mr. Martinelli, can you explain how you developed your painting technique?
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140576
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years later ghosts enter. . . .
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140510
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Victor didn't want to be alone, so he phoned Sophie.
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140511
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All I ask is that the guy has teeth and an income. More important are the teeth because he can always get a job, but he can’t un-rot the teeth he’s lost to meth.
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140541
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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…
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140511
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I lost my job but the government found me a new one. Now the government pays me to pretend I’m a travelling businessman. I fly around the country to imaginary meetings. It’s part of a project to make it look like the economy is doing well.
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140564
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in the pink distance / a boy in a corduroy shirt / sits before an upended electrical spindle / and drinks a vodka gimlet
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14052019
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Threads of sadness in the hands, in the touch
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140555
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Wish more than ever there was a more perfect way to mean everything I say. If I could I'd certainly walk all my words right up to your face now and give them over, hand to hand so to speak. That's the point at which I'd very much…
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140565
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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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