1362 8 4
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136222
|
No one saw him arrive at the half-moon garden just south of Delancey, no one saw him hang his cage from one of the drainage pipes, but by the time the rest of us got there, the bamboo frame was already covered with silky, golden cloth that reflected the e
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136110
|
[My baloney has a first name: it's Oh, Ess, Cee, Ay -- shit! I forget the rest! Can we start over?]
|
136153
|
you look like
the insides of my cheeks
chewed.
|
136141
|
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
|
136110
|
at the front of the bus/ sways a white-veiled woman:/ gnarled hands upon/ a bag of palms,
|
136131
|
She says, “He's like, the eighth wonder of the world.” She says this without irony, and this makes you feel embarrassed for her. The laughter in this small, smoky space is getting louder. You chew your chapped lips and put your…
|
136154
|
for that is righteousness / that to everyone be allowed his own choice
|
136121
|
“The minute I stopped wondering about
the meaning of life is when I
finally started enjoying life.”
|
136176
|
bullets in flight make sharp, snapping noises.
|
136155
|
before five/glancing down Academy Street/sloping west to where the tracks crossed/twisted tangled metal on wheels.
|
136132
|
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…
|
136100
|
“Now, “Pour Some Sugar on Me” is a hit of the eighties.”
|
136122
|
|
136161
|
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
|
136121
|
Dawn is a grey mass, what is left of the night's chill slips between my t-shirt and belly skin. Somewhere else you once wrote that being loved when you don't love in return equals rape.
|
136100
|
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
|
136155
|
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…
|
136143
|
He began to chop the powdery substance and separate it into segments.
|
136100
|
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,…
|
136144
|
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
|
136131
|
|
136000
|
You sleep in equative lip biting slumber
hugging a pillow you think is someone else.
|
136042
|
We're alone and besieged / by badness.
|
136000
|
Creatures of the dark don’t follow daylight savings
|
136085
|
The thrum and the thrust//
have beaten conviviality out of me.
|
136061
|
Later, you've hit that four shot espresso limit; you've snarfed down that too rich mushroom korma… gone before you tasted it.
|
136032
|
I’m sorry. We couldn’t fix the country
and left her a bigger mess than we found her
Oil leaking from her shores
earthquake batter all over her skin
We couldn’t fix her, and we’re sorry
You’ll find her wreck in tatters
at the bus st
|
136054
|
We are a city of overworked workers.
|
136042
|
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
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