1356 5 3
|
we can’t hear the hum/
and the heat is imperceptible.
|
135632
|
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
|
135601
|
When the telephone rang the fallow fields we lay in years ago became distant countries, filled with falling stars. The distant country into which you had disappeared became a pistol with a single bullet in the chamber.
|
1356158
|
But even if the truth
Never sets me free
I'll know this ain't the end of me
|
135697
|
perhaps I am only being transported not for replacement but for repair
|
1355179
|
The cornbread for dressing cools./
The cranberries boil with one cup each/
of sugar and water. The aromas are nice
|
135575
|
Whatever you have,/
we can monetize it
|
135511
|
õõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõ
|
135500
|
“I swear that man is a force of nature.” This was her mother's way of describing her father whenever her mother came too close to the precipice. While growing up, she could never allow herself to fully acknowledge the meaning behind her mother's…
|
135511
|
The man was sitting at his makeshift kitchen table. He was forty-five years old. He wore his mortarboard with tassel whenever he left his home. Once inside either a reputable establishment or one generally considered less so, he was sure to take off his m
|
135500
|
They've put down roots under the dome. Want to push through the ceiling, blot out the sun. I have other plans.
|
135541
|
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
|
135533
|
|
135572
|
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…
|
13552111
|
She connects to you
via snarling vines
& worm-woven tunnels.
Drops Roman numerals
|
135575
|
Forgive the doctor/
his hypocrisy -
|
135553
|
The cats sniff at the small opening,/
one by one, in a furtive casualness./
They think the outside air is sweet
|
135565
|
Clasped his hands behind his head to give a moment’s thought to love and how it had never quite clarified in his mind to run pure and sweet.
|
135552
|
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…
|
135533
|
had I gotten home without knowing it? well . . .
|
135500
|
It must have been then and in those days and during that time when the grass and short brush, like so much amber and jade, emerged from the snow and the poet Li Po, who while traveling within the ten thousand crags of the Tanggula Mountains, looked up…
|
135522
|
No one saw him arrive at the half-moon garden just south of Delancey, no one saw him hang his cage from one of the drainage pipes, but by the time the rest of us got there, the bamboo frame was already covered with silky, golden cloth that reflected the e
|
135500
|
No one would have picked me out of a crowd as the morbid one, but it was true that thoughts of easy exits floated through my consciousness regularly.
I did my research—the easy methods, painless, guaranteed methods—and felt prepared to do, well, w
|
135531
|
Happens at a party, this way, past frat boys
perched in branches like idiot hoot owls,
|
135563
|
I signed up for functional
I did not ask for this mixed bag
of broken glass
I have enough to swallow
|
1355178
|
|
135410
|
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
|
135401
|
[............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................]
|
135466
|
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…
|
135400
|
What can I offer you, White Moon?This full night lays black before your stoic assent—and Ibreathe my final breath, frantic—for you. I wait, damned,a bestial lover in the broken dark of the variety market, whisperinga word of forgiveness to an empty window. I…
|
