1401 9 4
|
My time glass allocation nears its end.
|
140120
|
They shoveled coal into the furnace of the city so the ghosts would be warm for their haunting.
|
140195
|
|
140110
|
|
140154
|
There I saw a man
Lowering his head
Close to the plate
And just wolfing down
His cake
And that was all he ate
It was like
Solace
He was enjoying it
So much
|
140130
|
Frank cut the tip of his finger off and it sort of shot over to the lettuce bin. The blood pumped out in tiny jets as he covered it with the palm of his other hand and ran to the sink. He pointed it in the sink and turned the water on, he could see…
|
140100
|
" ... that’s a seriously good result for an opening night."
|
140143
|
I told about the time during the early part of WW II when I shook hands with a member of the Flying Tigers. He was home on leave, and he stopped by to see my dad, who had been his scout master.
|
1401108
|
toe and hand-/
holds against/
the shear cliff
|
140154
|
What the hell is going on out here!? Yelled the man with the shotgun
|
140133
|
Jo was tailored, Amy was frivolous with ribbons and bows, Meg was plain and sensible; and Beth, who was ill and had no costume changes, wore the same nightgown throughout the dress-up session.
|
1401106
|
Millennium jumped strumming lithium gum cumulative outnumber humiliated résumé jumpy instruments
|
140031
|
a random sticker that says, Repent Sinner, and a club lineup snaking around the corner and sirens and that urine smell at alley's mouth
|
140085
|
The thrum and the thrust//
have beaten conviviality out of me.
|
140075
|
|
140000
|
His cheeks were extremely pink but the pink was not the shade usually associated with good health, it was the pink of Death.
|
140053
|
The cats sniff at the small opening,/
one by one, in a furtive casualness./
They think the outside air is sweet
|
140054
|
We are a city of overworked workers.
|
140063
|
On the phone I asked my mother how she was doing.
“I’m getting old,” she said. “Going slow. But getting there. I’m ninety-four!”
My mother was always 94, when she was really 93. I remember she was 93 right after she turned 92. And 92
|
140000
|
Who remains after the aching night has departed into dawn
and left us to week-old sleep
|
140061
|
I remember one time that summer I was with you (1964) going to a bar in maybe it was Melrose Park, or Northlake, or somewhere along Roosevelt Road closer to Chicago, not as far as Cicero though. I went there with a crazy gear-head named Roger Hudson, wh
|
140032
|
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
|
140010
|
Seems hot for a Thursday, doesn’t it?
|
140000
|
the odd stone stands/taller than trees/it protrudes from the young forest/an old mecca but smooth
|
140000
|
I. The cowboy of my heart rides high in the saddle. Behind him, the long tail of his speeding palomino, golden — like the hair to the girls I was later to want so desperately — stands straight out from his sweating, muscular haunches. It's time.…
|
140012
|
"I still believe in love."--John Lennon It was war of the ancient order come to the farthest shore at last. No one leaves this world without an arrow through his heart. Why should I lie to you now? We all fight the truth in…
|
140055
|
I heard that Hollywood is remaking “Thelma and Louise” with Christina Ricci and that dark haired girl who worked on a show that plays on the television. I heard it either from the internet or from a dream. I thought about looking it up, but I don't…
|
139900
|
“A lot of kids–granted, kids who aren’t too bright–will choose a school because of its mascot, and that’s what Chipper is all about,” he says.
|
139922
|
The mannequin’s blind eyes, open, green, serene,
Look away from the cross, her hand
Against our crotch, against
Our suffering, our agony of being
Alive and beating warm.
|
139900
|
Howling, prowling, yowling Baby Dykes, stalkin' chicks, throwin' fits, takin' hits! A thousand thigh divin', rosebud nipped, fur licking dancin' cats, (Claws in, claws
out! Yes!) sniffin' that cradle of love.
|
