1199 2 1
|
Jade in the emperor’s death
mouth – to the grave – all openings
closed – no breath – no air – no life
to enter to leave – the end should
be silent – you stop my mouth
|
119900
|
From outside it looked abandoned. We lived at the top of a dead end hill. The grass was high and brown, the bricks in the driveway were crooked, caved in. The winter was mild; rotten crabapples, half-frozen, lined the end of the road. This was my house.
|
119910
|
4. If you wear size 13, you'll trip a lot.
|
119988
|
It all began with me. I was first and for many years, the only.
|
119821
|
Love is easy. Lazy. Fickle.
|
119844
|
Our Sun bites down on the eager yet pouting lips of the softly puffy looking moon, but a jealous & runny cloud interferes with this story line just long enough for a little bit of fun: a young dancing tree washes her gold and…
|
119855
|
before five/glancing down Academy Street/sloping west to where the tracks crossed/twisted tangled metal on wheels.
|
119800
|
each vertebra is a golden cavalier, brave in upright vigilance; stoic heroes.
|
119840
|
He almost died, but hasn’t been this much alive ever.
|
119822
|
I whispered, “I love you”
and then, “Goodbye”
|
119800
|
No one wanted to bear witness
to this grand emasculation
|
119800
|
Insterstice: Novelas Four Sonnets Since …
|
119851
|
|
119855
|
“After your death is confirmed,” I assured him, “a hardcover first edition of your books, will sell for millions at auction in New York.
|
119811
|
Performed October 21-22, Gallery 263, Cambridge, Mass. Kathy-Ann Hart, the Hostess; Ryan Wenke, Ubu; Tyler Catanella, Alfred Jarry; the author--technician.
|
119811
|
They’re exhuming Pablo Neruda
To put his old bones to the test
Determine if he was murdered
At the Capitalists’ request.
|
119741
|
the cocksucking of strategic death planning
|
119700
|
Mustard stings the corner of his lips. He swipes it away with a finger, and looks closer at the hot dog. The piece of meat is ripped open like a sliced finger stuck in a doughy bandage
|
119710
|
Believe me, I would run if I could, but there seems to be a low haze of molasses clinging to my ankles.
|
119733
|
J., W., and W.’s girlfriend were exploring the nature and mores of homosexual conduct by discussing whether W. would be willing to suck J.’s cock.
|
119785
|
|
119765
|
Ours is but the very small effort being made here.But it's a good enough keeper for all of usto always remember off. All the tins thataren't really going to save usfrom starving, now are neatly arranged all around, justin case, stacked…
|
119793
|
Our trouble decided when the CUNY PhD student, a poet, cried out, “Racination!” during discussion of my poem.
|
119711
|
Thin slices of ruby tomato, red onion, and green peppers joined the bacchanal, wilting in the bliss of chile and cilantro raining down on them.
|
119784
|
I love the notion of uncertainty-/
which seems inherent/
at the level of particles-
|
119652
|
[...] A crimson post-it note/ illustrates the squiggle of a resting pulse wavering/
near the broken pencil leads and whorls of/soft wood which may be classed as evidence.
|
119600
|
Let us talk granola
and improvising
on the margins of
munchies and breakfast.
|
119610
|
|
119601
|
Ben gagged after shot-gunning the scotch. He hiccupped and it came back up through his nose. He grabbed a napkin and caught most of a shot and a half of Whyte & MacKay as it poured out his nose.
|
119675
|
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