1374 6 3
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When nothing's coming in All I have are fragments Cloudy memories Uncompleted projects Disappointments loom large and threaten to define me I am only as good as what I produce And now I feel empty So how do I shine How do I find the spark that…
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137477
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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…
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137422
|
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137487
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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,…
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137443
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A convoy of military vehicles is heading into the city as we are heading out.
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137400
|
the odd stone stands/taller than trees/it protrudes from the young forest/an old mecca but smooth
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137400
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We transplant helix° splices and
shoot back to meet our former selves, zip the
scrolls, and save the world. Then you said spin
so I twisted my jumper over and
over in
endless folds like lips, like vaginas, like
seacreatures
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137432
|
The young monk rose early to jog,
his appetites trailing like
cats in heat.
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137455
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137492
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i think god composed afternoons with crayons
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137353
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you look like
the insides of my cheeks
chewed.
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137341
|
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
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137341
|
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
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137311
|
Sometimes you wait by the mailbox and he doesn't come. It doesn't come, the letter, the talisman from another world you've been waiting for, and you give up. You finally open…
|
137321
|
“The minute I stopped wondering about
the meaning of life is when I
finally started enjoying life.”
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137341
|
the cocksucking of strategic death planning
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137375
|
Forgive the doctor/
his hypocrisy -
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137332
|
Over the last years of her life, my mornings began when Mom decided to play. Sitting on her black, ball-and-claw stool, she'd raise the key cover, stretch her neck and shoulders, and take slow, deliberate breaths. A deep, meditative state descended over the room and…
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137300
|
I considered my choices, then asked the question that has brought my wife so much pain over the years. "Which is cheaper?"
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137333
|
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 …
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137300
|
“Now, “Pour Some Sugar on Me” is a hit of the eighties.”
|
137332
|
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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137352
|
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…
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137300
|
Normally, after her shift, Linda would make herself a latte, untie her apron, and study at one of the tables. That evening, however, KEXP kept playing songs with grating guitar riffs, and loud laughers were everywhere. She chugged her coffee, burning her tongue. Then, she…
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137300
|
The night before, his dad had stumbled in drunk and beat his mother. John had covered his ears with his pillow to block out their screams.
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137388
|
Then he said something that really made sense, said he kept a blank check in his back pocket...
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137260
|
The arid paramour,
your breath is hot, dry, cedar.
I sweat you corpus fluids and salt
and the unnamably impure.
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137263
|
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.
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137200
|
Creatures of the dark don’t follow daylight savings
|
137285
|
The thrum and the thrust//
have beaten conviviality out of me.
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