1301 4 3
|
Whatever it is, the night vibe feeds off that disadvantage, nibbles at the desperation of those who come here.
|
130153
|
you knew the lightbent it in your favorleapt confidentlyacross heartscheeks and shouldersrouged chromaticincandescent pretendingperhaps the dark had no claimover your lonely clumsy soul© 2013 - Rene
|
130133
|
. . . we agree that formal standards for identifying literary merit exist and are capable of being discerned, not merely of being ascribed. —but is this itself true?
|
130122
|
"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.
|
130144
|
Poems reflect their poets. /
Mine: ugly but loved. /
It is just as well.
|
130132
|
The young monk rose early to jog,
his appetites trailing like
cats in heat.
|
130110
|
i could smell it,
my scalp split on
that same damn nail,
i hammered down 20 times,
it kept coming loose
that warped floorboard
i never should have tacked in
when i built this house.
it always squeaked
at the base of the stairs
when i snuck
|
130075
|
Whatever you have,/
we can monetize it
|
130051
|
...the woman of the sun, twelve stars around her head, the moon at her feet.
|
130000
|
" ... that’s a seriously good result for an opening night."
|
130065
|
"I don't know why you say good-bye, I say hello."--The Beatles Things fall from the clouds. Things fall from thefloor. Maybe through, maybe all the way.Everyone argues for their homeland.Someday I'd like to hold your hand. I'mstill dreaming. I hope it continuesto rain…
|
130000
|
"A Social Worker develops programs to help feed the poor," she had said, "and makes sure there's a chicken in every pot. A Counselor asks them how they feel about getting the chicken. And a Therapist diagnoses and treats them when they start hearing
|
130032
|
—Michiko, are you allergic to cats?
|
130000
|
A vanishing of something we never got to see. All we've been left with are impressions, imaginings
|
129942
|
He adopts a stance known as Part the Wild Horse’s Mane but calls it a different name--the Part the Hair of the Skanky Barmaid for a Bleachjob position.
|
129943
|
That twig looks pretty dead to me,
He will never ever be a man.
|
129922
|
He cleaned off the pump with a steel brush. Then he took it out to the pressure washer. Out there was where a lady that looked like a witch used to move around and sit on the fences like a crow. The air was humid, and the men were dressed in heavy blue coveralls.…
|
129900
|
a white rabbit with a dirty monocle and a straw hat regarded marsha from the grass at the edge of the mud.
|
129911
|
Our revolutionaries
Have evolved into gamekeepers
|
129932
|
A parody of John Ashbery I have been preconditioned likewise by the ligatures of the roof. It has bypassed even the lightning. When I started this essay I (poetics equalling dissemination, like a toilet plug) admired, and I in the book produced…
|
129975
|
From this fundamental simplicity,/
houses, cities, regions./
A nebula stretches across the grid.
|
129966
|
Two girls, twelve years old, run down San Pedro Avenue past the market, the middle school, seven driveways, their small chests heaving. The smooth soles of their Mary Janes keep slipping on the gravel driveways. Two men in a rust-orange van bear…
|
129961
|
removing oneself sometimes occurs only on the page
|
129997
|
Is it my imagination, or is her chair afraid of her?
|
129920
|
You welcome the new girl by putting a message on her back. I breathe harder until she pops or until you ask me what I’ve seen or until you see my hand turn into a fist.
|
129800
|
Oryn led Ragnorak to a window. It was darkened in the corners with only a red light over the Nocturne.
|
129831
|
Every night she waited for that magical hour when her breath was quick and her heart was loud rushing in her ears 8:04 or sometime 8:20 either way she knew the voice she would hear of her beloved was coming any minute now and so she was…
|
129822
|
Why do you lie? the old woman repeats when her mouth is not busy filling the waste bin. We sit as far away from her wheedle and wretch as the small waiting room allows. A young woman glares at us through the mental health clinic's safety glass…
|
129811
|
|
129852
|
Someone desperately dials a number.
Iris, draped tight.
|
