1259 6 3
|
until i french kiss every atmosphere
my mouth ready to explode
like roman candles
sparking my fingers sparking off the tips
of my sparking fingers
|
125921
|
It was that awkward time when one didn’t know if the night’s lover wanted to see you again.
|
125922
|
“Miss Brown had spent the morning (was it just this morning? Or another?) purchasing parsnips and leafy green vegetables from the local grocers, when she was overcome by a wave of nausea. The world went black and she awoke in a windowless, doorless room.
|
125900
|
What can I offer you, White Moon?This full night lays black before your stoic assent—and Ibreathe my final breath, frantic—for you. I wait, damned,a bestial lover in the broken dark of the variety market, whisperinga word of forgiveness to an empty window. I…
|
1259147
|
The fuckers tumble out of the bathroom like clowns from a tiny car. The girl has these huge tits and dark red hair. She rushes past me, smelling like chocolate. A guy's behind her, holding onto the back of her jeans. He's not good looking enough to…
|
1259105
|
The light they love to hate so much is always pulsating within each life; the unbelievable color sword of what happens next when any two people find each other in their hearts and all pretense is somehow gone, for at…
|
125952
|
...the completeness of pleasure tantamount to the end of all process...
|
125922
|
Often I want to kiss their lips
Drink in every word they have written
|
125941
|
She felt like she was turning into someone else, someone who appeared normal. She would be inundated with everyone else's ideas, morphing into an insipid lemming, smiling and bantering about mindless things. She wouldn't even care she had changed...
|
125932
|
Everyman: I quit, remember? I’m in a twelve step program now.
Alcohol: Oh sweetie, that’s too bad, we had some great times together.
|
1259147
|
A brief colorful season/
and then the fall as winds/
break the hold the leaves have
|
125851
|
Samson was also somewhat in hopes that his son Jason would become engaged in this minor capitalist enterprise and 'turned around' in his life.
|
1258148
|
...she shouted, “Benny!” and slowed down as a hand-lettered signboard proclaiming zukeeny appals cidar came into view
|
125831
|
I see you’re wearing your tablecloth top again
your tablecloth dress to impress me
and distress me with all your tablecloth positions
for your luncheons on the grass
with all your famous friends
who found you on your ass
Yes we can
|
125821
|
Michiko never telephoned Frank from Washington or Chicago.
|
125831
|
temporary objects of desire
|
125830
|
I might have avoided all of this trouble if. . .
|
125810
|
Believe me, I would run if I could, but there seems to be a low haze of molasses clinging to my ankles.
|
125840
|
He almost died, but hasn’t been this much alive ever.
|
125800
|
My toes curled together under the pathetic rag of a bedsheet, the frost creeping in through the two-inch deformity of the window on the left wall. I was tempted to sneak a glance at them to insure that they weren't black, but then decided that I'd…
|
125840
|
We all wish to partake in great events.
|
125865
|
we were all meant to do with our love? What I can think of is to ask the question again. I suppose there are others more willing to supply you with a proper answer, but none seem real to me. These words are only stones,meant to skip across the…
|
125852
|
How strangely perfect it is To see this man memorializedAn author, so I'll always cheerThough I haven't yet read his worksA secret perhaps best keptThe shame of an English major, the shame of a friendHow strangely perfect it is To read even the names paying…
|
125800
|
Loving himself. Loved by no one. Loving no one.
|
125841
|
On such warm nights when wet sex happens suddenly, please, remember the amaryllis. How they’ll push up out of the ground in August after the first real heat opens the air. I too was born in such weather.
Balmy nights when heat lightning beats in the
|
125800
|
It's not actually about blow jobs, sex, or coitus of any kind. You probably won't like it.
|
125851
|
We went driving on Sundays.
|
125763
|
We were born here. At the top of the stairs underneath a painting of basset hounds playing croquet. And a hallway closet filled with lost someones. And the police, three times a week, singing nursery rhymes while walking up to our door.
|
125785
|
The thrum and the thrust//
have beaten conviviality out of me.
|
125710
|
A deserted breeze hangs and waits
and talks with staggered shapes in the sky
like a melancholic child,
held behind
and forced to face the wall
as better taught and better-tempered children
dig for ancient ruins
just ou
|
