1340 4 2
|
In the end they talked a lot, shared what they could, both seemingly trying to rekindle something that was no longer hot, and yet they could not let go of each other. Year after year would prove that. Right then, just then, it seemed that the physical par
|
134000
|
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
|
134042
|
It's always dark when Cal and I arrive. We park under the bright sodium lamps, closest to the doors. The lights will probably be off by the time we return, unless the sensors miscue in the uncertain light of early morning. When that happens, the lights…
|
134075
|
His house incubates memories. As he sleeps, they hatch.His house is neither here nor there. It occupies a space between watchfulness and insomnia. Grey birds nest on its roof.His house is a refuge from everything except himself. The floor, walls, roof are fat with him.…
|
134011
|
Been running so long
You've been running so long
I bet you can't remember
What you're running from
|
133942
|
III. Through wheelwind crypts of mystery, through…
|
133986
|
That is a six-word story. Notice that the meaning does not change with the word count. Syllabic count: pentameter (ten). Keep these commas.
|
133910
|
|
133943
|
See the hair
Know the hair
Remove the hair
|
133940
|
Sometimes I think there's an octopus in my stomach. In the mornings it stretches and droops its lazy head to one side — It suctions it's tentacles to the walls of my belly and pulls them together forcing me To gag, and vomit what we didn't digest of the…
|
133933
|
my pilgrim tongue
on the map of
your body
seeks sanctuary
|
133960
|
Technique, Technique, Technique, Technique, TECHNIQUE!
|
133974
|
Last night was full of little fists
|
133941
|
... and that’s the story of the Polish worker who looks like van Gogh.
|
133932
|
The young monk rose early to jog,
his appetites trailing like
cats in heat.
|
133900
|
Lulls, and the gulls, amid the tides and their tears (And I join their voices and my heart is run), Though each or neither takes no part in my fears, I join no hands with the beach or the years (And the ships slip near plus yon). Held handfast,…
|
133940
|
Green hands
wave
in freezing water.
|
133920
|
These fern-like weeds grow along the roads. “Watch this,” you say, bending down over a plant. The touch of your fingertip sets it recoiling, stunned–a fun, jungle trick you picked up somewhere along your way.
|
133852
|
[...] A crimson post-it note/ illustrates the squiggle of a resting pulse wavering/
near the broken pencil leads and whorls of/soft wood which may be classed as evidence.
|
133897
|
“I fly in my dreams,” his mother said. “It's my privilege.”
|
133810
|
at the front of the bus/ sways a white-veiled woman:/ gnarled hands upon/ a bag of palms,
|
133841
|
In praise of the colorful flock with crowns
of teased cotton candy rising high above
Modular walls, stalled operating systems
staling coffee and pale corner offices
|
133862
|
One of his operas was confiscated when he couldn’t pay a hotel bill. He ended up in a mental home, demented from syphilis.
|
133811
|
|
133851
|
...the woman of the sun, twelve stars around her head, the moon at her feet.
|
133886
|
It’s not that cold but the cold that is/
penetrates layered cloth and soft skin/
to chill the blood in its capillaries
|
133841
|
You can have two threes, or three twos. I hear the beat both ways. It goes back and forth in my head, like magic, transforming from one to the other and back again. And I am learning the basics of music theory, and painting geometric shapes with primary colors. I am…
|
133800
|
I considered my choices, then asked the question that has brought my wife so much pain over the years. "Which is cheaper?"
|
133822
|
|
133844
|
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
|
