1033 1 1
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I am tripping on poetry.
Purple ink drips from my eyes like ergot of rye.
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103311
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It's been almost two years since I bought it.
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103300
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“You've got to be kidding me. A robot?”, said Marge as she rotated in the chair at her desk. She removed the leaf of paper from the typewriter and set in down on the desk. She looked up at Parkins who was leaning against the wall nursing a cold cup of…
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103342
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A man walks up and faces
this new red brick wall
The bricks are all perfect
as you might expect in a dream
And the cement is tuck-pointed
without a dribble, anywhere
He looks at the wall
and puts his head through it
And when he pulls h
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1033128
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A friend's remark about androgyny, "it's overrated," she said.
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103355
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The television was playing reruns of Mr. Ed, but it was hard to hear because of the flock of birds in the palm tree. I’d sometimes imagined the birds coming through the window, a swarming of pink cotton mouths, mawing everything in sight.
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103352
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lift my love and be lifted
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103310
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She smiled at him. "You want to know the secret, that's why you want her to tell - not because you want her to be happy."
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103300
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Mr. Skunk looked disdainfully at the window. “When the fuck do we get out of this place?” It was mostly rhetorical as the Skunks were all stuffed and inanimate.
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103300
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Ben was stuck between sweet essences and rancid Talmudic funk. It was going to be a long trip.
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103310
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A stroll along the golf course rim reveals Polo-logoed litter. Could this be what they mean by white trash?
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103396
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The world can still be viewed as a drop Of rain, but not all the tears can Be revealed as such. Stories swirling inside are constantly Shifting gears, searching for the lost highway, and Sometimes finding it. There is plenty of love Going…
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103311
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FUN MOVIE TRAILER: 41 members of my family participated in a movie I co-wrote and shot with my wife. Have a look!:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wA7k2r81iXEHere's the 64 minute film-noir-style…
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103300
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We had imagined making babies with ease, as if they were simply fruit- ripening on the trees around us- and all we had to do is stretch out our limbs and pluck. We never imagined that skill is involved, that heartbreak is required, and that the one simpl
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103211
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Sometimes your Monday morning answer to the inevitable questions don't have to be so mundane and repetitive. And sometimes they do. No one gives a shit anyway.
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103200
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1032137
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I find Vermeer and Bach and feel/
for a moment a shower of my own world’s/
prismatics.
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103200
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Waves like lovers gather and crest, crash into
White uncertainty.
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1032115
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There are no inspirations./
There are only the things I like/
and the much more numerous//
things I do not like.
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103220
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Ah, the nerve of hot-blooded youth! But the drinking age was only 18 in New Orleans, and we couldn’t resist the call of all that legalized drinking (even though I had fake I.D’s my roommate at Urbana had given me.)
You and I had already consecrated
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103200
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What would people say about me? He was immoderately adrift. Maybe pathologically narcissistic. A shame he dumped Gina, the best he ever did. In essence, a man-child.
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103200
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The woman wrings her hands again and again, reaching up to place one under her chin, then to her cheek as though there is some pending trepidation no one else can see...
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103221
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I am beleaguered by duplicity.
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103200
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Made sense then, should have written it down - But I fell back to sleep instead
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103200
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Like some beautiful yet macabre puppet, she was suspended on strings of wire, painstakingly threaded tubing flowing into her cavities, through her chambers, around her mechanics.
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103243
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I told about the time during the early part of WW II when I shook hands with a member of the Flying Tigers. He was home on leave, and he stopped by to see my dad, who had been his scout master.
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103223
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[This story is not racist!]
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103221
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We are nerds. We are Legion. We do not forgive. We do not forget. Expect us bitch.
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103221
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—Christ all mighty, said Ben to himself as he watched Isabella and Leona enter the bank. Those are some extraordinary examples of female flesh.
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103221
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Lost in the booth of Mr Punch's dreams,Jack Ketch flinches at the imagesflickering across torn curtains.The chirpy projectionistsits in his nest,flinging pictures:A snake, rising from a discarded pair of clown's trousers.A monkey, balancing on a watermelon.A burning sofa.A…
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