1371 0 0
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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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137172
|
If I should stumble into cheerfulness/
remind me of all the business models
|
137155
|
|
137192
|
i think god composed afternoons with crayons
|
137020
|
By the time she reached home, dinner would be there in thirty minutes, on the table. Not a lively table, just politeness, and calm. There were no issues of the day that needed discussing, no problems to be solved.
|
137055
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They’re young and haughty.
27’s still a long ways off.
They read about the famous,
not the dead.
Dusty dragonflies will not
land upon them,
and they are really only in love
with the dishwasher.
Now there’s a problem.
Poetry is dead,
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137098
|
we’ll never win/
the ongoing battle with dirt.
|
137010
|
Then there she is, and she makes me love-sad; it's a vehement, absolute, hard love-sad no one else needs to understand, though they can see; it's an emotion so concrete it's felt from the chest, not from a tenuous concept called heart.
|
137043
|
destroy the day
rip up the track
jump in the water
eat nothing but bugs
|
1370139
|
|
137000
|
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…
|
137020
|
I drove all night, but there weren’t nothing Roy Orbison about it. I’d been driving and around lunchtime I just thought I might stop by Shona’s place.
|
137030
|
These are not the caffeinated men of barbaric lore.
|
137000
|
“Now, “Pour Some Sugar on Me” is a hit of the eighties.”
|
137022
|
|
137000
|
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…
|
137052
|
“My name is Violet,” I add. I am trying to stop lying. Going without cigarettes has been easier.
|
137022
|
"Which way ought we to go from here," he asked.
She smiled again, "that all depends on where we want to get to." He nodded but didn't laugh so she sighed and strolled around the room, tuning and looking and considering her options.
|
137043
|
He began to chop the powdery substance and separate it into segments.
|
1370125
|
They talk but they don’t really / talk
|
137020
|
I barely scraped the sleep out of my eyes when I heard the shrill crying from outside the kitchen window, and I recalled one of the many reasons cats can't be trusted. You see, they're evolutionarily wired to imitate the sound of a crying human baby, so when they…
|
137021
|
There’s something Dad’s been telling us
that I don’t think is true
|
136945
|
Is there anything more emphatic than an ovary?
|
136900
|
Creatures of the dark don’t follow daylight savings
|
136921
|
“The minute I stopped wondering about
the meaning of life is when I
finally started enjoying life.”
|
136941
|
the cocksucking of strategic death planning
|
136955
|
before five/glancing down Academy Street/sloping west to where the tracks crossed/twisted tangled metal on wheels.
|
136911
|
“Okay,” Boris said, wiping his mouth, “ready to go see these paintings by Lenin? We go now.”
“Where are these paintings exactly?” Ellen of Troy (NY) asked. I didn’t mention which Troy she was from.
“I have friend in Prague,” Vladimir said. “Has sh
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136943
|
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…
|
136975
|
Forgive the doctor/
his hypocrisy -
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