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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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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
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135797
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Is it my imagination, or is her chair afraid of her?
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135701
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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.
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135700
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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
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. . . the roar of fire speaks lasting heat . . . .
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But even if the truth
Never sets me free
I'll know this ain't the end of me
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135666
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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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135600
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“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…
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135611
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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
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135600
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They've put down roots under the dome. Want to push through the ceiling, blot out the sun. I have other plans.
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135641
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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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She connects to you
via snarling vines
& worm-woven tunnels.
Drops Roman numerals
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135653
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The cats sniff at the small opening,/
one by one, in a furtive casualness./
They think the outside air is sweet
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135653
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we can’t hear the hum/
and the heat is imperceptible.
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135644
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Here’s a picture of you
Lit up by the internal light
Of the moon. It was a
Super moon that night
And the story of God
Had not been told
And we had to wait a good
Long time to hear it out in the cold
And I was the King of Fishers
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135600
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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…
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135600
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"Man, I'd love to do coke chopped up with the remains of this motherfucker," he said as the unicorn's head smacked against the screen of his netbook for the 12,364th time.
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135631
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Happens at a party, this way, past frat boys
perched in branches like idiot hoot owls,
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135663
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I signed up for functional
I did not ask for this mixed bag
of broken glass
I have enough to swallow
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135542
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III. Through wheelwind crypts of mystery, through…
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135575
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Whatever you have,/
we can monetize it
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135511
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We can’t see anything except for glimpses of the other’s eyes, hands, mouths when we move.
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135500
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He started to concentrate on the music again. It was the album with the crazy picture of Monk on the cover, with a machine gun over his shoulder, a tied-up Gestapo officer and a female resistance fighter standing next to—a cow.
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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…
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135553
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"Do you kiss all of your models?"
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