1225 9 7
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“I fly in my dreams,” his mother said. “It's my privilege.”
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122510
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I do not jerk up to sirens birds doorbell shouts hello hello through the letterbox hello
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122533
|
Nephew Joe, my old brother's son, came to fix our pipes. Strapping, strapless, hairless, tanned, he clinked with gold. He came out to us over the pipes... drip drip...I just wanted them fixed pronto. He took precious time. He cried...drip drip...I wanted him to stop. My…
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122541
|
But, The Driver talked about speed. Something about pulling her off easy or we’ll blow our tires. “No telling what’s off that shoulder,” he’d say.
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122594
|
My time glass allocation nears its end.
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122565
|
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12252110
|
--"Look at us," she murmurs. "Tristan and Isolde without the adultery."
--"Well, you can't have everything."
--"No? I heard otherwise."
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122541
|
A bum leaves his shopping cart
in the middle of the intersection
at 7th Ave and Perry St
and walks away
leaving everything behind
Shopping cart gets hit
by an onslaught of
yellow taxis whizzing by
The contents flying out
into the hum
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122521
|
How much sucking, faithlessly, can there be? The body being a night thing off which steam rises, that attracts like a magnet or loadstone, whose curls attract, whose ringlets or tufts of touched hair between the legs glory up the nightly watched miracle,
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122561
|
I remember one time that summer I was with you (1964) going to a bar in maybe it was Melrose Park, or Northlake, or somewhere along Roosevelt Road closer to Chicago, not as far as Cicero though. I went there with a crazy gear-head named Roger Hudson, wh
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122532
|
—Michiko, are you allergic to cats?
|
122543
|
Reams of saggy bunting intersect the streets.
|
122532
|
The young monk rose early to jog,
his appetites trailing like
cats in heat.
|
122445
|
She arranged to have an abortion at a doctor Greene’s office, who practiced out of a converted house on Solano Avenue on the north side of Berkeley. I took her there the day of the procedure. You couldn’t go to a regular hospital to have this kind of thi
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122464
|
It's not stories the quiet lack, but inclination...
|
122411
|
We can’t see anything except for glimpses of the other’s eyes, hands, mouths when we move.
|
122423
|
A little boy sits at the table. He hears a knock at the door.“Mo-om!” the boy calls out. “Door!”His mother comes from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her clothing.“Jesus!” she says. “Would it kill you to answer the…
|
122421
|
I tell him if he wants to impress a girl he should learn to cook. He shifts his body. I add, crab cakes work well.
|
122463
|
When nothing's coming in All I have are fragments Cloudy memories Uncompleted projects Disappointments loom large and threaten to define me I am only as good as what I produce And now I feel empty So how do I shine How do I find the spark that…
|
122420
|
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,…
|
122476
|
A phrase, a sentence, a stanza,/
sounds among the sums and lists/
and starts a scratched cascade/
of syllables and other approximations--
|
122410
|
The little girl picked up the toy phone. "Who is this please?" she said, mimicking what she'd heard her mother say many times before. "Snoopy," came the voice.
|
122432
|
Lying in the blissful glow of young television.
Idly sleeping, eyes open and ears closed.
|
122321
|
It made him feel better to imagine she was someone else, someone he didn't know. This comfort bothered him
|
122300
|
It is not rough like most grappa, but smooth like good whisky. It removes all edges, freezes the tongue and erases the memory.
|
122322
|
Why do you lie? the old woman repeats when her mouth is not busy filling the waste bin. We sit as far away from her wheedle and wretch as the small waiting room allows. A young woman glares at us through the mental health clinic's safety glass…
|
122322
|
He cleaned off the pump with a steel brush. Then he took it out to the pressure washer. Out there was where a lady that looked like a witch used to move around and sit on the fences like a crow. The air was humid, and the men were dressed in heavy blue coveralls.…
|
122320
|
Darkness on my mind
doesn't make me blind.
|
122320
|
Ah, the nerve of hot-blooded youth! But the drinking age was only 18 in New Orleans, and we couldn’t resist the call of all that legalized drinking (even though I had fake I.D’s my roommate at Urbana had given me.)
You and I had already consecrated
|
122310
|
machine utility of thought,
intangible aesthetic of sentiment.
|
