1378 7 6
|
bullets in flight make sharp, snapping noises.
|
137855
|
The boy stared out his window, noting the suns slow and eventual passing behind the distant mountains. He saw his face reflected in the window pane and turned away. His shadow loomed…
|
137843
|
My accordion's name is Sophia and she is from Italy. She was born in fairytale fashion, the way my life in Madrid can sometimes be. A great and nurturing friend gathered money from many friends in our village, to buy me an accordion for my birthday. It was…
|
137872
|
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…
|
137811
|
As clever as clean bed sheets
|
137833
|
1. The Grizzlies met with the other forest animals for a meeting about voting rights. I was there too, you know, to prevent chaos or something. 2. Mom didn't like it when I took in a …
|
137861
|
I am surprised that you’re not famous already. I remember sitting in your bedroom for hours just watching you while you wrote poetry. I was in awe of you, thinking you were going to be the next Dylan Thomas! Or Bob Dylan. Or Dylan Somebody! And I rememb
|
137887
|
I'll always remember those warm, weekend twilights on the beach after the frolic of the waves seemed to flatten with the impending dusk, sending the surfers home and, after the bait was spent, sending the surfcasters away, I'd claim a square of sand as my stage,…
|
137843
|
A convoy of military vehicles is heading into the city as we are heading out.
|
137820
|
You welcome the new girl by putting a message on her back. I breathe harder until she pops or until you ask me what I’ve seen or until you see my hand turn into a fist.
|
137745
|
Is there anything more emphatic than an ovary?
|
137741
|
His only sibling had passed a few years back and his mother was the only one left of a gaggle of 7 brothers and sisters and their spouses. The turning of the generations, from birth to grave, was always a bit like the tilling of the ancestral soil. A new
|
137741
|
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
|
137700
|
|
137754
|
We are a city of overworked workers.
|
137700
|
Who remains after the aching night has departed into dawn
and left us to week-old sleep
|
137777
|
i waited for the moon last night for hoursfell asleep with the record player on and dreamedof rain running downgutters of sea glass housesthe sun nudged me awakeand she served me toasthe's not serious,she saidhe's half baked,full of…
|
137700
|
“Now, “Pour Some Sugar on Me” is a hit of the eighties.”
|
137722
|
|
137752
|
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…
|
137710
|
Seems hot for a Thursday, doesn’t it?
|
137752
|
“My name is Violet,” I add. I am trying to stop lying. Going without cigarettes has been easier.
|
137700
|
the odd stone stands/taller than trees/it protrudes from the young forest/an old mecca but smooth
|
1377106
|
Millennium jumped strumming lithium gum cumulative outnumber humiliated résumé jumpy instruments
|
137744
|
I’m up to my kneecaps
in mockery and swill, and …
Excuse Me,
I’m Writing a Poem here?
Thank you. Sheesh!
As I was saying,
I’m up to my kneecaps in mockery and swill.
And I meet someone who
names all his fish after
people he doesn’t l
|
137792
|
i think god composed afternoons with crayons
|
137660
|
The arid paramour,
your breath is hot, dry, cedar.
I sweat you corpus fluids and salt
and the unnamably impure.
|
137653
|
He slathered the glue on my scalp and talked non-stop about Harlem. Electrodes or nodes, I never asked which, would measure something inside my head. I doubt they actually did though, measure anything. I've had the pleasure of having wires glued to my skull before and have…
|
137663
|
We were born here. At the top of the stairs underneath a painting of basset hounds playing croquet. And a hallway closet filled with lost someones. And the police, three times a week, singing nursery rhymes while walking up to our door.
|
137600
|
[WE'LL LET *YOU* BE THE JUDGE!]
|
