1381 12 7
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If you find a lone, sad honeybee, buy a Habitrail cage and make it your new pet.
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138153
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while the fat stars stand out in the cobalt night.
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138041
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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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138097
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“I fly in my dreams,” his mother said. “It's my privilege.”
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138053
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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…
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138041
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CALENTURE The horizon is marked with the still sculptures of dead gulls; A young man floats off slowly on the…
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138072
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The bus was almost empty, just me and an Asian girl who'd cleaned up some since I'd seen her. She was wearing a too-big T-shirt that said Freakuccino and writing in a notebook. If she remembered me she didn't say so I didn't either. Everybody sheds some…
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138095
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1380128
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He switched off the light. His wife was breathing softly. At her bedside he told her of her friends the roses, of the pretty carnation brooch he had pinned on her silk scarf, of her coquettish hat which fitted her so well. Small, simple and bright memories the heavy night…
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138011
|
To The Graduates Of The Class Of 2010:
You are here today at a critical crossroads of your life. For most of your 22 years you’ve been taught to work hard, obey the rules, listen with respect to your elders and to trust that every effort you make wil
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138000
|
“Now, “Pour Some Sugar on Me” is a hit of the eighties.”
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138061
|
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
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138085
|
Mom would dig through one of her music boxes to pick out Saturday morning's cleaning jams. Tattered, battered Payless shoeboxes with lids ripped to shit, filled to capacity with piles of cassettes; greatest hits albums, mostly, or Time Life compilations of mid-to-late…
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138043
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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.
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138044
|
Poems reflect their poets. /
Mine: ugly but loved. /
It is just as well.
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138043
|
He began to chop the powdery substance and separate it into segments.
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138044
|
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
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138092
|
i think god composed afternoons with crayons
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137994
|
My time glass allocation nears its end.
|
137900
|
His cheeks were extremely pink but the pink was not the shade usually associated with good health, it was the pink of Death.
|
137901
|
I was sitting at the barFeeling the blues after workDrinking my 64 0z pitcherOf beerBody hurting all overAnd this kid begins to talk to meAbout how drinking is killing myBrain cellsAnd of course i have heard thisShit all beforeYet i act dumb all the sameLike really? I did…
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137976
|
bullets in flight make sharp, snapping noises.
|
137955
|
before five/glancing down Academy Street/sloping west to where the tracks crossed/twisted tangled metal on wheels.
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137943
|
And he was wearing a mask. Gorilla mask over his gorilla face.
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137920
|
I couldn't think of anything that rhymed with "unibrow" except Tsing Tao, which is a brand of Chinese beer....
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137943
|
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…
|
137954
|
We are a city of overworked workers.
|
137900
|
No one wanted to bear witness
to this grand emasculation
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137932
|
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
|
137910
|
Seems hot for a Thursday, doesn’t it?
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