1257 5 5
|
before five/glancing down Academy Street/sloping west to where the tracks crossed/twisted tangled metal on wheels.
|
125741
|
Some corners of the world seem to be consigned to an eternal hell of never-ending strife. The Middle East; Northern Ireland; the faculty lounge at Oxford University.
|
125742
|
The butterscotch on that painting makes me want to lick the canvas.
|
125797
|
Is it my imagination, or is her chair afraid of her?
|
125700
|
A vanishing of something we never got to see. All we've been left with are impressions, imaginings
|
125782
|
7.53Another morning ritual. Trying to fill the loose ends of time in the early morning is a task.7.54I've done about everything, too early to work and too late to go back to sleep. 7.55Trying to avoid the nausea of life at all cost. My mind is a snakepit, filled with…
|
125600
|
He thought of natural violence that had to do with the wind and the Atlantic Ocean. He thought of the Gulf Stream, that important title, that someone had shown him on a map and explained about in detail.
|
125611
|
On this day, a blinding sky
holds ribbed reams of clouds,
staccato against staggering blue.
|
125632
|
The strangers say hi at the Piggly Wiggly grocery stores, compliment my gold necklace, tell me I'm as beautiful as a Southern Belle, ask where I got my Gucci shoes. “Wow, New…
|
125600
|
The music is too loud in here and it's hurting my ears. I know some of the words to the songs because my older sister listens to the same stuff when she's in her bedroom and is playing her iPod and my dad yells at her to turn that crap down. I like my dad. He calls me…
|
125610
|
As if I should have expected better of it.
|
125640
|
I've been chasing something that cannot be caught.
|
125632
|
My parrot Poe freezes when a crow soars outside the window the same way I do when you approach my door. You come knocking late at night. What do you want this time? I yell. To come in you say, please. Go the fuck away, I respond but you keep…
|
125600
|
“You know, Miss Viv, I love looking at the sun when it’s almost gone. It kinda looks like an orange and apple squished together. Those are the colors. And the puffy clouds under it look like a bed. It’s going to sleep."
|
125642
|
It's always dark when Cal and I arrive. We park under the bright sodium lamps, closest to the doors. The lights will probably be off by the time we return, unless the sensors miscue in the uncertain light of early morning. When that happens, the lights…
|
12561612
|
Millicent asked me to stop over at her place for coffee after work because we needed to talk. While pouring, she said she was torn about telling me what her father used to do to her when her mom was not around, but she thought I needed to know how twisted her life was…
|
1256106
|
We do not all love each other for the sake of our shared art, apparently.
|
125652
|
|
125684
|
I love the notion of uncertainty-/
which seems inherent/
at the level of particles-
|
125560
|
The arid paramour,
your breath is hot, dry, cedar.
I sweat you corpus fluids and salt
and the unnamably impure.
|
125575
|
and springs its ready-made claws into action and takes a soppy chance that things will probably go its feline way today. But you, my friend, must you always throw the testing switch to high voltage on me? Yeah I get that the history teachers…
|
125510
|
You are my intergalactic princess / The most beautiful in twelve systems
|
125576
|
The green on your shoulder Is worth all their papery property taxes And then some. They cash in every friendship As if it were nothing more than a Ripened apple for pie. Get rid of The thing before it begins to Rot into some…
|
125531
|
i ask you what i taste like and you say "not much."
|
125520
|
The flowerpots across the street from Frank’s room at the Place d’Armes Hotel never appeared parched by the late August sun.
|
1255114
|
The goal is to perform along with Jason Lee Norman--who is touring with his book of very short stories called Americas--a selection from my own collection called Country Without a Name. The symmetry excites me.
|
125500
|
Who remains after the aching night has departed into dawn
and left us to week-old sleep
|
125501
|
One by one, cars filed into the cemetery, pelted by the summer rain under a gun-metal sky. The procession moved slowly, a series of brake lights and headlights, too close together, too far apart; there were sedans and SUVs, mini-vans and pick-up trucks, shiny new vehicles…
|
125593
|
Our trouble decided when the CUNY PhD student, a poet, cried out, “Racination!” during discussion of my poem.
|
125500
|
That was nearly two years and a thousand smiles ago.
|
