1357 17 9
|
The cornbread for dressing cools./
The cranberries boil with one cup each/
of sugar and water. The aromas are nice
|
135754
|
Suddenly, the room was filled with a screaming vortex directed at a pinpoint in the corner. Timmy's bureau was gone and everything loose in the room was flying towards the spot it had occupied. Timmy stood up in horror. He tried to seal this rent by tossi
|
135731
|
She says, “He's like, the eighth wonder of the world.” She says this without irony, and this makes you feel embarrassed for her. The laughter in this small, smoky space is getting louder. You chew your chapped lips and put your…
|
135743
|
I got one good hubcap
I lost the other 3
I just don’t know
What the heck is wrong with me
I got one good hubcap
As you can plainly see
The other 3 were seen
Just a-hanging from a tree
That’s what must’ve happened
When I ran my car ri
|
135720
|
Delightful days spent at the beach. Children building castles; as parents watched waves glistening under the afternoon sunlight. Sanderlings running with beaks down, hoping for a tasty morsel through the ebb and flow of tides. As time went by, briefcases,…
|
13572111
|
She connects to you
via snarling vines
& worm-woven tunnels.
Drops Roman numerals
|
135720
|
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,…
|
135732
|
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
|
135752
|
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…
|
135797
|
Is it my imagination, or is her chair afraid of her?
|
135700
|
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…
|
135701
|
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.
|
135787
|
. . . the roar of fire speaks lasting heat . . . .
|
1357158
|
But even if the truth
Never sets me free
I'll know this ain't the end of me
|
135642
|
III. Through wheelwind crypts of mystery, through…
|
135611
|
We can’t see anything except for glimpses of the other’s eyes, hands, mouths when we move.
|
135600
|
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.
|
135666
|
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…
|
135600
|
“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…
|
135611
|
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
|
135600
|
They've put down roots under the dome. Want to push through the ceiling, blot out the sun. I have other plans.
|
135641
|
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
|
135653
|
The cats sniff at the small opening,/
one by one, in a furtive casualness./
They think the outside air is sweet
|
135665
|
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.
|
135653
|
we can’t hear the hum/
and the heat is imperceptible.
|
135600
|
"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.
|
1356129
|
For the new year, I´ve given up palm oil.
Made shopping a whole lot harder.
Damn orangutans tugging at my conscience.
|
135632
|
The young monk rose early to jog,
his appetites trailing like
cats in heat.
|
135631
|
Happens at a party, this way, past frat boys
perched in branches like idiot hoot owls,
|
135663
|
I signed up for functional
I did not ask for this mixed bag
of broken glass
I have enough to swallow
|
