1330 10 9
|
We’re on The Worm. I dread the part where the train goes under the bay. I hold my breath until we safely emerge.
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133053
|
It's not a funeral. Nobody to mourn over.
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133072
|
She pulled the book off its shelf. It meant something else now. He'd quote her in the mirror, at the backs of buses that kept her moving, something she'd said without saying. He would remember for them. She'd forget, without him, the way she wanted. Garland and lights were…
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133043
|
Man, this bearskin rug was a big, awkward sonofabitch on his back....
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133053
|
we can’t hear the hum/
and the heat is imperceptible.
|
133052
|
It's morning, and the cold black hull of branches sets my resting pier, Amid this drizzle, underneath the poignant pain of birches, wrecked By floods of midyear grieving; wraithlike, Dawn's been becked To paint in shafts of faded rose that shades the fen…
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133063
|
I signed up for functional
I did not ask for this mixed bag
of broken glass
I have enough to swallow
|
132910
|
I remember a time when Calvin, my husband, was like Winnie the Pooh and I was a jar of fine Provençal honey. No amount of my sweetness could satisfy his craving for me. He would spread me on his toast with butter at breakfast and mix me with peanut butter
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13291615
|
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132900
|
When we crossed the California/Oregon border, I had this
vivid image of sleeping bags filled with human bones. I shook
my head and the scene would not go away. The woods must be
full of dead campers, hitch hikers, run-a-ways, and black
teenage whores
|
132945
|
I sat at
the vast graveyard
of broken hearts
on the mending fence
of wonderment
unsealing the silence
of the wounds
I began to put the pieces
together
like a puzzle against
forgetting
|
132932
|
I guess it was, you know, a daze thing: He, lightly drunk, turning red in parts of his head, in his cheeks mostly, and his chest, to which my eyes were drawn because of his v-neck douchebag shirt; and I, sleepy beyond belief, sustained like a zombie only
|
132933
|
No preview available due to the brevity of the piece. In fact, this comment itself is longer than the piece.
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132901
|
Miranda hugged Madam Mayweather as the girls, except Akane, gathered around them.
|
132961
|
I am surprised that you’re not famous already. I remember sitting in your bedroom for hours just watching you while you wrote poetry. I was in awe of you, thinking you were going to be the next Dylan Thomas! Or Bob Dylan. Or Dylan Somebody! And I rememb
|
13291411
|
I. The sun's corona. Empty boxes near the firehouse. Red birth. A bird's lost wing. II. The bitterness of littleness. Apples in a pile.Early love.A spider, swinging. III. A father's harshness.Twelve bills unpaid. Leaves in a crevice. A dream…
|
132900
|
We transplant helix° splices and
shoot back to meet our former selves, zip the
scrolls, and save the world. Then you said spin
so I twisted my jumper over and
over in
endless folds like lips, like vaginas, like
seacreatures
|
132964
|
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…
|
132900
|
I. The cowboy of my heart rides high in the saddle. Behind him, the long tail of his speeding palomino, golden — like the hair to the girls I was later to want so desperately — stands straight out from his sweating, muscular haunches. It's time.…
|
132900
|
Reverend Peter Roman could stand it no more. He stopped his speech. He felt a fire burning through him, a hatred for humanity and all the weaknesses of beings not perfect before God. He stood a long while, staring at the congregation. Then, he slowly spok
|
132944
|
The consequences follow from here:
the shine of forbidden knowing
the apple soon offered to Adam
the twined Serpent’s hidden fangs
|
1329108
|
I call upon all cashiers in dungarees...
I call upon the baristas in rags...
I call upon those whose
sinister principles tax the weakness of their conscience...
I call upon all those deracinated by dreaming big...
|
132910
|
they say the sense of smell is the strongest sense connected to memory, but not for me
|
132833
|
His friend Boner, who was more accurately a friend of Milo, who was a friend of his cousin in Dubai and who had, up until this post, seemed to share thoughts in common with him, posted, “Holy Shit, Dude! What’re You On?”
|
132897
|
“I fly in my dreams,” his mother said. “It's my privilege.”
|
132800
|
Without light it is black.
|
132853
|
She is a manifold of temporal flows.
|
132863
|
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
|
132831
|
When Beez and I were visiting D.C., Beez saw MDW after many years and said, almost so that MDW could hear him if he wished, “His hair looks like Beethoven’s.”
|
132887
|
arrogant, sullen,/
supple and ambiguous,//
English seems the ideal tongue
|
