1345 6 3
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Can we meet in the desert,
I will stand with a cactus flower clenched
between my teeth and balance en pointe.
I will tame snakes and find your serpent
tongue with my eyes closed.
I will usher in the clouds, when it grows hot,
and, should you becom
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1345 2 0
|
The possum is sneering with truth. I can smell the blood under his fingernails. He has seen it all, the backwoods distilleries and the back porch propane grilles. He has slept under the beds of whores and kings alike.
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1345 1 1
|
I noticed Sean changed after his grounding. We no longer played night soldiers around the block, no longer biked to the creek to catch crayfish he'd crush with his boots. Sean stopped hunting lizards, stopped charging smaller kids toll to pass…
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1345 4 2
|
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…
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1345 8 7
|
. . . the roar of fire speaks lasting heat . . . .
|
1345 2 0
|
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.
|
1344 8 6
|
That is a six-word story. Notice that the meaning does not change with the word count. Syllabic count: pentameter (ten). Keep these commas.
|
1344 1 0
|
at the front of the bus/ sways a white-veiled woman:/ gnarled hands upon/ a bag of palms,
|
1344 7 5
|
Whatever you have,/
we can monetize it
|
1344 4 2
|
We laughed like lords and lunatics
Our schematics stretched before us
|
1344 1 0
|
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1344 6 1
|
Later, you've hit that four shot espresso limit; you've snarfed down that too rich mushroom korma… gone before you tasted it.
|
1344 4 1
|
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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1344 4 0
|
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…
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1344 4 4
|
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
|
1344 8 5
|
Ah we just sat on the flat roof of the school and looked out at what was beyond because sometimes there is nothin' to do but sit on a flat roof of a school and look out at what is beyond. Going up there I had told him to be careful with the bag because if he didn't take…
|
1344 4 4
|
Poems reflect their poets. /
Mine: ugly but loved. /
It is just as well.
|
1344 10 6
|
Millennium jumped strumming lithium gum cumulative outnumber humiliated résumé jumpy instruments
|
1344 5 5
|
|
1343 9 5
|
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1343 10 9
|
The thumb, incarnate, knows/
the moment of the misplaced hammer blow;/
the tongue, incarnate, the cool invigoration/
of water drawn from the dark well.
|
1343 0 0
|
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…
|
1343 5 3
|
"Do you kiss all of your models?"
|
1343 3 3
|
my pilgrim tongue
on the map of
your body
seeks sanctuary
|
1343 7 5
|
Forgive the doctor/
his hypocrisy -
|
1343 2 2
|
|
1343 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
|
1343 7 4
|
Last night was full of little fists
|
1343 4 1
|
... and that’s the story of the Polish worker who looks like van Gogh.
|
1343 12 9
|
For the new year, I´ve given up palm oil.
Made shopping a whole lot harder.
Damn orangutans tugging at my conscience.
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