1377 5 2
|
Someone desperately dials a number.
Iris, draped tight.
|
137754
|
We are a city of overworked workers.
|
137700
|
“Now, “Pour Some Sugar on Me” is a hit of the eighties.”
|
137722
|
|
137732
|
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
|
137752
|
It's morning, and the cold black hull of branches sets my resting pier, Amid this drizzle, underneath the poignant pain of birches, wrecked By floods of midyear grieving; wraithlike, Dawn's been becked To paint in shafts of faded rose that shades the fen…
|
137752
|
“My name is Violet,” I add. I am trying to stop lying. Going without cigarettes has been easier.
|
137700
|
the odd stone stands/taller than trees/it protrudes from the young forest/an old mecca but smooth
|
137764
|
You have at least
an intermittent belief.
|
137788
|
Then he said something that really made sense, said he kept a blank check in his back pocket...
|
137712
|
"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…
|
137755
|
F Bomb I am coming in like a blackbird. Like I'm going to tickle your mud. I am coming in carrying a half-sunk message backward. Is that your lonesome answer? I am coming in to sweep for all saints. 'Course I didn't just wake up…
|
137744
|
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
|
1377126
|
|
137685
|
The thrum and the thrust//
have beaten conviviality out of me.
|
137654
|
for that is righteousness / that to everyone be allowed his own choice
|
137631
|
i ask you what i taste like and you say "not much."
|
137600
|
[WE'LL LET *YOU* BE THE JUDGE!]
|
137600
|
“I swear that man is a force of nature.” This was her mother's way of describing her father whenever her mother came too close to the precipice. While growing up, she could never allow herself to fully acknowledge the meaning behind her mother's…
|
137601
|
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…
|
137660
|
I had a dream about you once. I don't know if I told you about it already or not. (If I did, I apologize.) I'm never quite sure who you're writing about in some of your stories (maybe a composite of everyone?) but I did hold you one more time. In my dream
|
137643
|
He began to chop the powdery substance and separate it into segments.
|
137631
|
|
137610
|
“A story shines brighter through a tear in your eye,” You say
|
137575
|
|
137511
|
There’s a room
Full of white
And it smells
Like bleach and
Iron
|
137598
|
we’ll never win/
the ongoing battle with dirt.
|
137510
|
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.
|
137522
|
By dawn, she is ready to hunt.
|
137511
|
“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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